Black Diamond
by Devon King
Summary: Thrills, chills and downhills as the girls from Peekskill take a ski trip that turns out to be more than they imagined.
1. Default Chapter

Untitled Document

A short story based on characters created by Dick Clair and Jenna McMahon.

DISCLAIMER: The characters described herein are the property of Columbia Pictures Television. This is a work of fan fiction and there is no intention to profit from the use of these characters.

TIMELINE: Season Seven. Jo and Blair are juniors at Langley. Natalie is out of school. Tootie is a senior at Eastland.

RATING: PG13. Adult themes and violence.

CREDITS: Thanks to Blair n' Jo Rock for the idea that set this in motion.

***********

BLACK DIAMOND  
by Devon King

"Ohmigosh! Guys, look at that!" said Tootie Ramsey as she leaned back in the plush chair. Her dark eyes were wide at the wonder of the sunset over the mountains. It was all the senior could do not to point at the display beyond their window. 

That would be immature, Tootie decided. It would also peg us as tourists. Being thought of as gawking out-of-towners was not part of their rest and relaxation plan. So instead of hopping up and down in her seat, she tapped her fingertips excitedly upon the tabletop.

Jo Polniaczek's dark head turned in the direction of her friend's gaze. For long moments she just watched the interplay of colors as the fading light danced through the shades of the spectrum. 

A slow smile spread across her lips as she rested her chin in her hand. You're getting soft, Polniaczek, she thought to herself. Who would've thought that I'd ever find myself in a fancy-schmantzy ski lodge like this? 

She remembered a night, many years ago, when a skinny kid with a ponytail and a king-sized chip on her shoulder thought she'd never fit in at Eastland Academy for Girls. 

Oh, sure, she'd had it all figured out. Hitch up the highway. Get back to the city. Nevermind that Mrs. G was doing everything possible to be kind to her. So the other kids were reaching out to her -- big deal. Not interested.

She could still see the rich kid in her navy blazer. "I thought we were in this together," she had said.

A waiter strolled by and smiled at the girl who was lost in her thoughts. The brunette's eyes drifted around the table, secretly watching as her friends enjoyed the dazzling view. 

Their personalities, interests and goals couldn't be more different from one another, Jo grinned.

I'm glad I stayed.

Natalie continued to stare at the sunset. Her mouth hung open for a moment. The redhead, who was always on the lookout for experiences that she could use in her writing, recognized that this was one of those important moments. 

"Oh, that's ..." Nat gestured toward the western range. "Look, it's so..." she sputtered. 

The blonde across from her slid her dessert plate to the center of the elegant dinner table and leaned forward with a grin. "Natalie? Are you okay?"

Nat's hands were still moving animatedly as she struggled to make her point. Finally, she let them fall to her lap. "I have no words," she said in defeat.

The other girls looked at one another. 

"Call 'Ripley's Believe It or Not,'" whispered Tootie. Blair and Jo chuckled.

"I heard that, Ramsey," Natalie growled. Then, suddenly, the scowl dropped away from the writer's face.

She snapped her fingers. "I got it! Resplendent!" she announced proudly. Blair Warner nodded approvingly.

Her brown eyes drifted over nature's vivid display. The hues were deepening now, turning to blues and indigos. "Good word," she murmured.

"Ditto," said her roommate from the Bronx.

*************

Jo spread her trail map out on the picnic table. "Which ones?"

"These over here," replied Blair as she swung a foot over the bench seat and set her coffee cup on the wooden surface. She raked a finger down the full color illustration.

"Demon Bends and Velocity?" Jo asked. She squinted at the drawing of the mountain and its ski corridors. "I don't know, they don't look all that fierce," she hedged.

Blair tapped part of the map with a fingertip. "See this, this middle part of Demon Bends? Locals call it 'the vile mile,'" she confided. "The ski patrols have threatened to shut it down."

The brunette grinned wickedly and swatted her roommate playfully on the shoulder. "Now, that's what I'm talking about!"

"Talking about what?" inquired Tootie. She and Natalie had just arrived on the deck outside the lodge. Nat carried a bagel in her hand.

"Demon Bends and the Vile Mile," declared Jo. "I'm going to get my first black diamond this trip, I just know it!" 

Natalie swallowed noisily. She looked at Blair. "This is the part where you tell me they don't all have names like that," she said nervously. The writer stepped up to the table and looked over the map.

"Where's all the trails called 'Walk in the Park' or 'Leisurely Stroll?'" she asked. Blair laughed.

"I think those are on another mountain," she chuckled. "But there are plenty of trails you should enjoy, Natalie. Just read the legend and look for the green dots..."

"Forget dots," interrupted Nat, "I want to see ears!"

Jo cocked her head. Maybe I didn't hear that quite right. "Ears?"

Natalie held up two fingers and bounced them forward. "Yup, ears. As in bunny slopes," she grinned. 

Tootie groaned and covered her face with a mitten. 

Blair sighed. "Think green, Natalie. You might like the tubing hills in the lowlands," she suggested. 

"Don't worry, not everyone has a death wish like Speed Racer here," she angled a thumb toward Jo and smirked.

"Yeah, yeah, laugh it up, Warner," countered the brunette. Jo leaned toward the late arrivals. "She's just afraid she can't keep up," she taunted.

Blair stood and glared at her roommate. "In your dreams, Polniaczek," she retorted.

Well, that didn't take long, thought the Eastland senior. Tootie shook her head. "Please tell me we aren't going anywhere with them," she said to the writer. 

Natalie rotated on a heel, putting the loud difference of opinions behind her. "We most certainly are not. Come, my friend, let's find the bunny slopes before these two hot-heads melt the mountain," she quipped.

*************

The girl held onto the safety bar and looked all around in delight. Tootie kicked her skis back and forth excitedly. 

"Tootie! What are you doing!" yelped her best friend Natalie Green as the seat beneath them rocked on its cable. She cast a worried glance overhead as the chair rocked along the sturdy wire. The redhead folded a glove over her eyes.

"Natalie, would you relax?" chided the calmer of the two. She shook her head and the pompoms atop her toboggan bobbed in tempo. "We're perfectly safe up here."

Nat's head swiveled about to face her friend. "Well, excuse me! It ain't up here I'm worried about!" she said. "It's that first step to down THERE that makes me just a tad nervous!"

The duo was aboard one of the main lifts to the top of a trail in the Aspen Mountains Ski Area. Their morning had begun on the beginner slopes and after their confidence grew, they had decided to try something a little more difficult. 

The Eastland senior giggled and gave their seat another rock.

"TOOTIE!" bellowed Natalie. 

"Okay! Okay!" laughed the girl in the purple ski coat. She leaned over the side of the car and waved at the snow below. "Hey, look! All the people on the trails look like ants..."

Her pal grabbed her by the sleeve and hauled her back toward the center of the bench seat. 

Natalie pointed up the mountain and gave the girl her most serious glare. "Do you see the top of the trail up there?" 

Tootie nodded and Nat continued. "Unless you are prepared to spend the rest of the day by yourself, you will not say or do one more thing until we get there and our feet are on the ground. Is that clear?"

Tootie's mouth opened to respond and Natalie narrowed her eyes into a warning look. 

Oh, yeah. No talking, Tootie though sadly. The senior pouted and nodded glumly.

Natalie's face brightened. "I'm glad we had this little talk," she quipped. Beside her, her friend's jaws worked in a snide, silent mimicry of the reporter's final comment.

********************

Jo Polniaczek shifted her weight onto the inside edge of her ski and dug into the crisp snow, executing a perfect stop. She stabbed her poles into the white powder and then lifted her goggles away from her face. 

Her cheeks were reddened from the wind and the sun. She grinned up at the mountainside. That was intense! she thought to herself. 

Her gaze sought out the movement on the slope. Closer and closer came the skier in the royal blue jacket. Jo nodded as her roommate traversed an icy patch that rattled her skis, the slick planes chattering as she bent further at the knee to hold the edge.

That's the way, Blair! she cheered to herself as the blonde performed a tight turn that blasted her into fresh powder and away from the rough area. Seconds later, Jo's roommate whizzed to a stop that dusted the brunette's feet with snow.

Pleased with her performance on the hill, the new arrival smiled in a jaunty fashion. 

"What took you so long?" taunted the girl from the Bronx. She pushed up the sleeve of her anorak and looked at her watch. "If I had known I would have to wait, I could've gone in for some hot chocolate!"

Blair tilted her head down and gripped the edge of her Wayfarer sunglasses, nudging them so she could look out over the dark frames. A blonde brow arched skeptically at the comment.

"Style over speed, Jo," she grinned. "So you got here first. You made the fast run. I made the clean run."

Jo rolled her eyes. "Oh, well, when you put it like that!" she scoffed. The brunette was getting ready to launch into an explanation from her old neighborhood that second place was really first loser when she noticed that Blair wasn't listening.

In fact, the girl looked right past Jo, gave her hair a toss and smiled.

That was classic Warner behavior and it could only mean one thing. Jo angled her head about. Sure enough, she grinned. Cute guys at three o'clock.

The green eyed beauty bent down and freed her boots from the bindings. She snuck another peek at the young men who had begun walking over toward them.

"Blair?" she whispered to her roommate who was now unbuckling her own skis. The blonde gathered her gear into one hand.

"Jo, listen to me. Concentrate on what I'm about to say. We cannot ski at night." The soft crunch of footsteps in the snow beside them announced the arrival of the guys.

The brunette's face brightened. "You've got a point there, Warner," she admitted. 

Jo looked up to see a pair of smiling blue eyes in a ruggedly handsome face twinkling back at her. She stood up as the other fellow reached down gallantly for Blair's hand.

"That was a great run," said the voice behind the mirrored sunglasses as he helped Blair to her feet.

Blair deferred the praise. "Thanks, but it was nothing compared to hers," she clapped Jo on the shoulder. "I just can't seem to master the speed thing," she shrugged.

"Maybe I could help you with that? I'm Kurt, by the way," he said as he extended his hand again. "This strong silent type over here is my buddy, Aaron."

The blonde shook his hand. "Blair Warner, and this is my friend, Jo Polniaczek." Jo stuck out a glove.

"Hiya, Aaron. Nice to meet ya, Kurt," she smiled. The brunette looked down the slope toward the lodge. 

"You know, guys, we were just heading in for something to drink, care to join us?" Since Blair baited the hook, the least I can do is reel them in, she decided.

Oh yeah, thought Jo. Ski vacations are the best. 

************

"Chad! Where are you? You've really gone and done it now!" bellowed the sturdy fellow as he pounded through the warm office of public safety. When he turned the corner he discovered why the gangly teenager wasn't answering.

Chad Bartholomew Pinkus was busy conducting a drum solo on the stacks of salt and de-icer in the storeroom. He had his walkman turned up nearly full blast and rat-ta-tat-tatted on the packs with road flares clutched in his hands like drumsticks. 

With his back to the doorway, Chad was completely oblivious to the shrieks of his supervisor. The boy doo-wopped his skinny shoulders in time to the beat of Bon Jovi's "Livin' on a Prayer," punctuating the cymbal crashes with sturdy hits to a roll of safety fencing.

His boss, shook his head and watched the strange gyrating display before him for several seconds. Then, he spied the walkman dangling from the teenager's hip pocket. He winced as the kid began adding background vocals to a song he could barely hear.

"Wooaah, yeah! Half - way there-er!" Chad screeched.

The supervisor allowed the boy to reach a particularly loud part of the song, chuckling as the kid blurted out a nasal whine along to his own unique beat, and then he pulled the headphone wires out of the player's socket.

"Woh oh! Livin' ... uh, huh?" the teenager frowned and reached back to check the play button. 

His boss cleared his throat. Chad's eyes widened and then he shut them tightly.

Busted! he thought to himself. The boy with the unruly mop of brown hair turned around slowly and wiggled his fingers in a tiny wave.

"Hey, Mr. Livingston! How's it going?" he grinned as he pulled the headphones off his head and let them dangle around his neck. "Some storm we had last night, huh?"

Livingston crossed his arms over his burly chest and stared at the kid. "It sure was, Chad." The public safety office at the resort was responsible for keeping roads, paths and walkways free of snow and ice for the tourists. They had plows out well before dawn cutting down to drivable surfaces so the wintry white mountain could be enjoyed by all who visited.

Chad bundled his "drumsticks" together and tucked them back in a box over the bags of de-icer. He smiled at the dark skinned man and got a growl in response.

"This morning, when you were driving the snow plow along the southern cabins, did you happen to notice a gray Mercedes parked outside the Mayor's house?" 

The teenager puzzled back over his morning behind the wheel of the big industrial plow. "Yeah..." he answered carefully. He did remember it. "It looked like a sweet ride. Really sweet."

Livingston smiled and his eyes glittered dangerously as he raised up on the balls of his feet to get closer to his employee. "Then maybe you can explain to me why you buried the car under eight feet of snow!" he yelled.

The man's face was nearly purple with strain. "Of all the cars on the whole stinking mountain! The mayor's mother's Mercedes!" Livingston wiped at his chin and paced the small room.

"What were you thinking? What do you do when you approach a car with that damned plow?"

Chad squared his shoulders, but refused to look his boss in the eye. "Switch off the snow discharge until you pass," he answered sheepishly. He rubbed the back of his neck and prayed that the sermon wouldn't go on for too much longer.  


  



	2. PART TWO

Untitled Document

I wonder how long Tootie's snowboard lesson will take? 

Natalie stretched out and felt the soft cushion beneath her settle and compact with her weight. It crunched with a squeaky sort of sound as she wriggled her shoulders down and let gravity do the hard part.

Staring straight up, it felt as though she were looking through the sky. No clouds. No haze. Just blue on blue forever.

A snowflake sputtered across her field of vision. She blinked and tried to watch its path. It skittered out of sight as the wind twirled along beneath it. 

She allowed her eyes to dip toward the earth just far enough to catch the verdant green tops of the fir trees. Just had to add another color in there for comparison, she chuckled.

Okay, enough of that. Back to the blue.

The reporter grinned. Do people know about this? she wondered. 'Cos the mountain is nothing in comparison to this sky. She poked her elbows down a bit farther and then did the same thing with her heels.

It's a little crusty, but I can adapt, she smiled. Ooh! Another snowflake! 

This one fluttered so close that the girl's eyes nearly crossed as she watched it. Up and down, up and down until it perched on her cheek with a tiny sting of cold. The reporter took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

Was the sky always this big? she wondered as she began to feel the cold seep through her ski clothes. Maybe I've just never been this close to it before, she mused. Colorado is way above sea level, you know.

Wait a minute? Where was I, she thought. Oh, yeah. Back to business.

The twenty year old snuggled into the powder again and then started making sweeping motions with her outstretched arms. Next, she added a back and forth swipe with her legs. 

What reasonable, thinking person would rather be on a ski lift when they could be making snow angels? she wondered.

***********  
The mountain resort sprawled over the western slope of the mountain. Everything you could possibly want for wintertime fun was on the property. There were three different night clubs in the massive lodge where the girls from Peekskill were staying.

Each club was tailored to a different crowd, different age group and style of music. The youngest and hippest of the three was called "The Glacier." It was positioned in a corner of the lodge and had two levels. Dark glass windows rimmed two walls of the place with cool blue neon outlining doorways that led to a double-tier deck on the outside. 

If you were inside, it was a pretty standard club scene. A decent sized dance floor, a bar and lots of small tables and chairs. Upstairs, where a balcony extended over the lower dance floor, there was a tiny bar and a much smaller area to dance. However, when you passed through the doors onto the deck, you found yourself in a cozy spot under the Colorado stars. 

The benches and tables rambled all along the wooden construction. People could congregate in large groups or find secluded spots to themselves. Brick outdoor fireplaces provided places to warm up while small, twinkling lanterns ran the length of the structure. The golden glow from the lanterns was a welcome contrast to the strobe lights and electronics of the inside of the club.

Blair leaned against the railing, her elbows resting on its surface to either side of her. She and the blonde haired fellow from the ski slope had stepped outside for some conversation and air. She tilted her head back and followed Kurt's finger as he pointed at the starry heavens.

"... and then, if you just line up those two stars, you'll always be able to find the North star," he finished. The young man let his gaze drift over to his date's upturned face. A breeze on the balcony was ruffling the girl's hair ever so slightly.

The amber light from the porch lamps revealed that she was smiling. He lowered his arm and tucked his hand in the pocket of his jeans. "You're being polite, aren't you?" he asked.

The blonde took her eyes off the inky sky for a moment. "No more than usual," she grinned and then she realized he was serious. "About what?"

Kurt spread his arms out to his sides. "This!" She looked at him blankly. He sighed, looked up overhead and waved his hands above them. "That! I've been droning on about constellations, for pity's sake," he mumbled. 

"I have bored you to tears. No doubt, you're thinking of an excuse to get out of here, even as we speak," he declared as he turned around and leaned his forearms on the railing. 

The socialite stood up and propped her hands on her hips. Where did that come from? she wondered. She stared at his profile as she considered how she should respond. 

She shook her head and moved to stand beside him at the railing, mimicking his stance. Blair nudged him with her shoulder.

"No offense, but don't quit your day job," she commented as they looked out over the dark canyon beyond.

"Huh?" the ski ranger grunted. He turned slightly and squinted at her.

"This mind reader thing? You aren't very good at it," she whispered. "Just so you'll know... you were wrong on all counts. I wasn't pretending to enjoy myself -- I was enjoying myself."

"I was getting a kick out of listening to a great guy tell me about things I've seldom had the chance to see," she said as she looked up once again. The darkness was peppered with pinpoints of light.

She took a deep breath. "All the universe is displayed," Blair gestured at the enormity of the sky. "I've read a hundred poems and sonnets that tried to capture the essence of these stars and none of them came close to the way you described them tonight."

Kurt shook his head. "Blair, I probably spend five minutes on the Big Dipper!" The socialite raised a hand in protest.

"True, but you also showed me Andromeda," she pointed toward the twinkling stars that illustrated the princess who was to be sacrificed to a sea monster but was saved by the hero Perseus. 

She smiled at the night sky. "A romance illustrated in the stars and you think you're boring me?" she shook her head in disbelief. The tall young man in the red sweater turned and leaned one elbow against the rail.

They were an unlikely couple and if he were smart, he would play it cool, keep things casual. After all, what could a Manhattan debutante possibly see in a guy like me?

"Blair, I only have one sport coat and it's for church," he said. "My paramedic pay just barely covers my rent and ski equipment, my Bronco has 130,000 miles on it and I have the table manners of a lumberjack. Oh, and my mother says my cabin looks like a bear lives in it."

The girl turned to face him. Just inches away. 

"Oh, yeah?" she seemed to think for a moment. "It takes a scorecard for me to keep track of my parent's marriages and divorces. I've got a new car but only because my father felt guilty about not remembering my birthday. I'm part owner in a store that sells hotdog telephones, among other things, and I room with Jo Polniaczek."

She paused and shrugged. "That's sort of like living with a bear," she chuckled. Her date laughed out loud at the comparison and took her hands in his own.

"When you put it like that, it seems we have a lot in common, Miss Warner," he grinned. "What do you think we should do now?"

The blonde raised her chin and stepped closer, pulling their entwined fingers behind her back. This put them in a modified hug with the ski patrolman's arms around her trim waist.

Blair's dark eyes twinkled. "I'm going to let you have one more shot at reading my mind," she suggested. She could feel his laugh rumble through his chest before he lowered his face to hers and brushed her mouth with his. 

As the second kiss began, she slipped her arms around his neck. A moment later they parted and he pulled her into his arms for an embrace. Her cheek rested on his chest as he kissed the top of her head.

"You might be psychic after all," she remarked happily. They stood there as the first glittering snowflakes began to fall around them.

************  
  
Aaron spun his date around and around. The two had just finished a marathon dance session of up tempo tunes and were laughing as the final thumps of the Romantics "That's What I Like About You" faded from the sound system.

When the college rock anthem began, he had grabbed her impulsively and set about leading her through a set of tango steps. Not that the song lent itself to such a dance -- it didn't. Not at all. It was just a lark and it gave him an excuse to hold her in his arms.

Imagine the ski patrolman's surprise when she laughed and executed the ladies part of the difficult dance flawlessly. In fact, she had smiled up at him as he led them striding across the floor.

Even in the subdued light he could see her green eyes sparkling with mischievous delight. He chuckled and shook his head. A woman who isn't afraid of a toolbox, owns a Kawasaki Samurai, likes baseball AND just happens to be smart and sexy too.

"Where have you been all my life," he laughed. Jo turned around as though she was getting her bearings. She chose a direction and pointed with both hands, one just in front of her chin, as if she were drawing the string to a bow. 

"Ummmm, that way. About two thousand miles," she quipped. A second later she laughed. "I think!" Her date laughed along as they started to leave the floor.

"Anyway, what do I know about wilderness directions. That's your department, isn't it?" she asked. 

He saluted and answered in a deep, serious voice. "That's right, ma'am. I can find you anywhere on this mountain."

Jo's eyebrows raised. "Oh, really? And how is that?"

"Highly classified methods, ma'am," he announced gravely. He cleared his throat.

"And, well, did I mention that I'm part St. Bernard?" he grinned in a slightly goofy fashion that she found charming.

Jo raised her eyes and looked at him skeptically. Since meeting on the slopes that afternoon, the twosome had hit it off remarkably well. She took a step toward him and put her hand on his broad chest.

"St. Bernard, huh?" she inquired as she gazed up into pale blue eyes that saw only her. The brunette raised up on her toes and kissed his cheek. 

Emboldened, Aaron slipped his arms around her waist and kissed her lightly on the lips. Jo returned the kiss and when it ended, she brushed her nose against his. 

She sat her heels back on the ground. "Well, your nose is cold, so I guess you're telling the truth," she chuckled. Behind them the disc jockey announced that the next song would be by Foreigner.

The first few bars of "Waiting for a Girl Like You" had barely drifted from the speakers when the handsome young man took his date by the hand and led her back to the center of the dance floor.

With a smile, he pulled her into his arms as the song spun out words that he might have written for an evening such as this. Jo could feel his strong chin against her cheek. She closed her eyes and swayed amid the other couples there in the darkness.

**************  
Thank goodness the entry hall light was on.

Blair sat down on the bench by the door and pulled off her heels. The door to the room she shared with Jo was slightly ajar. Someone has turned on a bedside lamp for them. Judging by the darkness of the rest of the suite, she guessed that Tootie and Natalie had turned in long ago.

She wondered if they had a good time at the ice rink. Tootie had been itching to get on skates since they had arrived. She leaned back and crossed her legs as her mind drifted over the past few hours.

Wow, she thought with a smile. She raked a hand through her shoulder length hair, tousling it the back of her head. I mean, this is silly, but... wow. 

A scratch at the door caught her attention and her eyes widened. The door opened a crack and she could hear whispers. Blair shut her eyes and grimaced. She thought about making a break for it, but decided that she'd probably trip over something in the dark and wake up the whole crew.

Not the best idea. Come on, Jo. Make it a quick goodnight, she thought. 

About the time she reopened her eyes, her roommate stepped through the doorway. "Hey, there!" she whispered. 

Jo frowned and then noticed the high heels in her roommate's hand. She gestured at the bench. "Scoot over." The brunette dropped into place beside the blonde.

"When did you get in?" she asked softly.

Blair grinned. "I beat you by about five minutes," she admitted. Jo nodded approvingly.

A beat later, both young women spoke at the same time:

"So I suppose you and Kurt hit it off?"  
"Looks as though Aaron did pretty well for himself?"

They blinked at their overlapping questions and then both laughed. Blair raised a finger to her lips and pointed toward the shared living areas.

Jo looked toward the younger girls' room. She yawned and stretched. This was a very, very good day. I think I kinda like this mountain living, she thought to herself.

"What are the chances that we can get to our room without starting an inquisition?" It wasn't that either girl had anything to hide -- but it was late and there would be plenty of questions tomorrow. Jo was more than sure of that.

Blair considered their options. "Depends. How quiet can you be?"

"Watch me, I'm a mouse," the brunette replied with a smirk.

"Right behind you, Mickey!" whispered Blair as they tip-toed into their room and quietly shut the door.

**********  
The teenager shivered in the cab. He peered out the snow encrusted windshield of the snowcat at the narrow trail up the mountain. Man! It's tough to see the edges of the road, he thought.

He squinted at the roadway, grateful for the bright overhead lights on the heavy duty machine. It was half past four o'clock in the morning and the tractor lumbered along with a rattle and racket that threatened to loosen the fillings from Chad's teeth.

There was no light. None. Dawn was still hours away. The boy yawned and slurped a gulp of coffee from his thermos bottle. He shook his head and vowed to never, ever bury another car in snow.

The chore he undertook this morning was the most dreaded of all the safety crew work. He was to take the snowcat, really a truck with tracks under it like a snowmobile, up to the summit and then make sure all the entrances to the black diamond runs were clear.

This mountain was home to four world class runs. Last year, the fifth corridor, the one dubbed "Viper" was closed. Too many skiers were getting ground up on their way down the treacherous slope.

At last, the big machine pulled into a clearing at the crest of the mountain. He idled it up toward the maintenance shed that lay just inside what had been the staging area for Viper. 

The snow had drifted about the entrance to the trail and obscured the chain that hung across the passage to the downhill. Fumbling with his thermos, Chad's eyes left the mountain top for an instant.

He never felt the snap of the chain as the vehicle ripped it loose and pounded it into the snow. Reaching his destination, the youth dropped the machine into low gear and shut it off. Flashlight in hand, he swung out of the cab and dropped to the snowy ground.

As he opened the doors on the maintenance building, he could still hear his boss's orders ringing in his head. 

"That summit had better look good enough for the Olympics, do you understand me? Clear the paths to the courtesy station and make damn sure that the lift assembly isn't frozen up," were the words barked by Livingston at the teenager.

Chad rolled his eyes at the recollection. I should'a told him to chill and switch to decaf, he thought as he fired up the small plow. The machine rumbled beneath him and he fastened up the hood of his parka. He eased the plow out of the building and over the slippery terrain.

The small headlights just enabled him to see what was immediately in front of him. This ain't gonna get it, he grumbled.

It was bad enough that his eyelashes were freezing from the frost from his breath, but there was no way he was going to bump around blind at the top of the world. He put the snowplow in idle and hopped off.

Bailing back into the snowcat, he fired up the big machine and swung it around. The tracks the vehicle ran on kept it from being very agile and he had to rock it back and forth to complete the turn in the tight area beside the drop off for Viper.

Slowly, he herded the machine into place and then switched on the overhead flood lights. Chad banged a fist against the steering wheel as the beams illuminated the whole of the mountain top.

Yes! Now, let's get busy, he decided as he loped through the snow toward the plow.  
  



	3. PART THREE

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Jo brushed her hair back, gathered it into a ponytail and caught it with an elastic band. She lifted her dark tresses with one hand and considered the look. Her roommate ducked under her upraised elbow, jockeying for enough room to reach her makeup bag.

"'Scuse me!" chirped Blair as she rummaged through the cosmetics. Jo frowned at her reflection. She raised her other hand and fluffed her bangs.  
The socialite grinned as she finally found her moisturizer. "Aha!"

Clutching it, she maneuvered out of Jo's way. The brunette let her arms drop to her sides and exhaled in frustration as the debutante left the bathroom. A moment later, Blair reappeared in the doorway.

She didn't enter the bath again, rather she held onto the door facing and sort of leaned into the mirrored room. She looked at her roommate's reflection in the glass and smiled.

Jo's eyes switched their focus to the blonde. She cocked her head slightly and issued a warning look to the girl she knew was about to offer advice. Even as she did it, she knew it wouldn't work. She leaned forward onto the marble counter.

Might as well get it over with. "All right, what?" Jo grumbled.

"Wear it down," Blair suggested amiably. The blonde tried to keep her expression neutral. I don't believe it! she thought to herself. Our resident cool customer is nervous. Ain't love grand?

Jo's green eyes narrowed and focused on her roommate's reflection. "Why?"

"Why not?" Blair countered with a carefree shrug before she flashed a grin and left Jo all alone in the roomy bath. The girl from the Bronx nodded slowly in disbelief.

What just happened here? she thought. Blair just offered up sincere advice without a single jab or smart remark. Either the altitude is getting to her or she's in love.

Jo reconsidered her style and tugged her dark hair free of the fastener. As she raked a brush through her heavy tresses, she could hear her friend adjusting the volume of the television in the other room.

The soft sound of "Walkin' on Sunshine" wafted through the doorway. Jo shook her head. It was a quarter to seven in the morning and Blair had tuned in MTV?

That settles it. We can rule out the altitude, she decided.

Jo laughed and switched off the bathroom lights, her head bobbing along with the tune's infectious beat. When she entered the bedroom, she found her roommate happily humming along to the song so she quick stepped over and lent her own voice to the chorus.

If it hadn't been for the early hour, they would've cranked the volume up loud enough for complaints from the foot of the mountain. Instead, they had a quiet but completely exuberant jam session as they gathered their belongings.

The song faded as the station switched into its next block of music and Blair switched off the set. "Since when did we become morning people?" she asked breathlessly.

Her roommate looked out the window at the majestic mountains that surrounded the resort. "Since yesterday. No -- since last night," Jo admitted with a grin.

Blair nodded. She understood completely. "Ready to meet the press?"

The brunette winced. "Do we have to?"

The socialite folded her arms. "I think Natalie and Tootie will notice if we avoid them for the rest of the trip," she replied sensibly.

Jo smiled in a devilish manner. "Wanna risk it?" she grinned. Her roommate laughed out loud at the suggestion.

Blair moved over to the door that separated their bedroom from the shared living areas of the suite. Chances are the other roommates wouldn't stop pestering until every last detail of the older girl's evenings were drug out and discussed by the group.

She grabbed the doorknob and paused. "It is awfully tempting..." she said. The debutante drummed her fingertips on the brass knob.

"Yes, it certainly is," agreed Jo. She dreaded the forthcoming twenty questions.

"We can't," she sighed as she opened the doorway. Jo fell into step behind her.

"Yeah, I know. Guess we'll just have to lose them on the slopes," she muttered.

Blair's face brightened. "Now, that can be arranged," she quipped with a backward glance.

**************  
First one leg moved awkwardly, then the other followed in a herky-jerky fashion. Tootie straightened up and snarled, grimacing as she rubbed her lower back.

Their evening at the resort's ice rink had been one to remember. The reporter bounded across the room and opened the blinds to show the spectacular view from their windows.

Behind her, she could hear her roommate groaning with each step. Natalie released the crank that maneuvered the blinds, turned her head and muffled her mouth with her hand.

She had enjoyed the skating, really, she had. The redhead's eyes crept back to Tootie and watched her move like an eighty-year-old woman. Nat shook her head.

Ice skates, roller skates. Who knew there would be such a difference between them? Tootie had finally made it to the bathroom and was brushing her teeth.

She's either quit whining or I can't hear her through the toothpaste, decided Natalie. Either way, it's an improvement.

The reporter remembered their evening mixing and mingling on the outdoor rink. It was really a beautiful place. Skates, music, food and drinks all under the twinkling stars. She sighed and closed her eyes for an instant, trying to commit even the smallest of the details to memory.

She looked at the bedside clock. It's nearly time to head to breakfast. Anyway, that was the plan the last time they saw Blair and Jo. The girl shivered as she recalled Jo's plans to tackle some of the tougher slopes today.

So you suppose she'll every figure out that fast isn't the only speed there is? she wondered. She mentally admonished herself for the thought with a shake of her head. What am I thinking? We are talking about Jo here, after all!

She looked at the snow that had accumulated over night. It drifted up against the outside of the windowpanes and molded itself into the contour of the ledge.

The mountains beyond the panes of glass looked dark against the morning light. To the writer, they had taken on a decidedly sinister appearance. And Jo wants to go to the top of the worst of them and slide off on two tiny slivers of wood.

Natalie scowled and picked up her jacket. There's a fine line between fearless and suicidal she decided.

A howl from the center of the room caught her attention. "How you feeling, Tootie?"

"Oh, I'm fine. Just fine. Thanks," muttered the senior as she shuffled toward the connecting door that led to the living room.

"You don't look fine," was the reporter's frank appraisal. "Actually, you're creeping around like my Grandmother with a sunburn," she giggled. Natalie paused and considered that for a moment.

She indicated a circular path with her hands. "Mmmm, no, strike that. Grandma would've lapped you twice by now!"

Tootie glared at her friend.

"It just so happens that it takes a few more muscles to snowboard and ice skate than it does to make snow angels," she commented haughtily. Natalie nodded sympathetically.

"True. Lucky for you I'm saving all my strength to dial 9-1-1," she grinned.

Before Tootie could respond, the doorway before the petite girl opened suddenly.

"Rise and shine, campers!" smiled Jo Polniaczek. The brunette's tactic for her nosy, but well intentioned, friends was to mount a strong offense. Tootie blinked at the college student who swung the door back and forth.

"Well? Are you two coming, or not?" asked Jo. A blonde head appeared in the opening.

"Morning, all!" Blair announced brightly. She clapped her hands, looking every bit like a perky cruise director. "Let's see some hustle, shall we?"

Now it was Natalie's turn to be puzzled. She crossed to stand by her roommate and looked from Jo to Blair and back again. "You realize of course, that the only thing missing from this picture is the theme to the Twilight Zone," she declared.

The college students put on their most innocent looks.

Tootie settled her hands on her hips and managed to keep from groaning as she did so. "Yeah. The only morning person in our house is Mrs. Garrett and she ain't here," she stated suspiciously.

Natalie nudged her friend. The redhead's smile was growing larger and larger, her eyes narrowing down to crescents perched upon her cheeks.

"Ooooh! They met men!" she exclaimed.

Jo and Blair passed a look between them. Though they weren't ready to admit defeat the meaning of the exchange was plain to both of them.

We are so busted.

***********  
  
Chad Pinkus turned the snow plow around for the final pass. The sun was peeking up over the summits to the East and he needed to start the long trip back down the mountain. The lifts would start running at seven.

In a short while, the more daring and experienced skiers would be testing themselves on the black diamond runs. He shivered as he considered the difficulty level of the mountain's courses. His boss, Livingston, had mentioned once that some of these runs made Olympic skiers cry.

Chad shook his head. The twists, turns and sheer drops put the whole mountain out of the teenagers league. As much as he adored his snowboard, he decided he liked breathing better.

Of course, he could always dream. Wouldn't it be rad to be the first to snowboard this bad mamma jamma? he thought to himself. The snowplow groaned as it ground up the coarse ice and ejected it in a heavy spray to the right rear of the machine.

Chad leaned into the turn and herded the plow back into the equipment shed. He adjusted the discharge after he cleared the icy patch. The machine now dispensed a thick, heavy cloud of solid snow. It stacked up to the edge of the walking areas.

It plastered the saplings and the brush that grew near the trail entrances.

Oh, yeah, thought the snowboarder. Whoever makes it down this baby on a board will be famous. Fame equals money and chicks! He smiled as he imagined the welcome he would receive at the lodge. The smile got bigger as he thought of how much he would enjoy quitting his job at public safety.

First come the endorsement deals, then maybe a television movie, he grinned. He skirted the perimeter of the closed trail because of the big snowcat, its floodlights still on, in his way.

He zeroed in on the equipment enclosure and soon was mere feet from the door. His attention was pulled by the sound of a fir tree being battered by the discharge from the plow. Chad quickly switched off the apparatus.

Whew! he thought. Lucky old Mr. Livingston wasn't here to see that! He eased the plow into the shed and sealed up the small building. Surveying his handiwork, he couldn't help but be pleased.

The summit looked beautiful. He plodded through the snow toward the snowcat and stumbled. Luckily, he caught himself by grabbing a bit of exposed timber that stuck up from a snowdrift.

Chad yawned, his mouth working behind the thick, insulated collar of his parka. Coffee, he decided. I need coffee.

As he fired up the snowcat's engine, a tiny bird lit upon the timber that had just kept the teenager from falling. The machine lumbered away as the black capped chickadee hopped around the post and explored the changes.

The bright-eyed bird could only tell that one of its favorite perches had been buried in snow. It had no way of knowing that beneath the drifted snow was the warning marker and sign that designated the deadliest trail off limits.

***********

"How ya doin' up there, Tootie?" the voice was cheery in a slightly forced fashion.

The brunette was impatient. That's all there was to it. She thought about sprinting past her friend and then discarded the idea as too rude. Jo stepped back and forth, from one foot to the other, vainly trying to expel some of her pent up frustration.

The action was noted by her roommate who trailed along behind the slow moving group. Blair leaned on the heavy wooden banister and watched Jo's antics with amusement.

At one point, the girl from the Bronx waved both arms in an imaginary pushing motion. In front of her, Tootie straightened her leg and put yet another step behind her.

Blair chuckled as she heard what could only be described as a thinly disguised growl slip out of her roommate. She patted her friend on the back in sympathy and urged her to take another step up the staircase.

Ahead of them, Natalie was serving as a crutch to the stiff and slow moving girl from D.C. The two of them, standing side by side, made a pretty effective blockade of the staircase.

Jo took a deep breath and exhaled slowly and quietly as she looked past them. Her green eyes tracked up the flights of stairs that led to the restaurant with the observation deck.

She thumped absently at the railing with a fist. This was supposed to be a shortcut, she thought dejectedly. The stairs off the lobby of the resort were huge -- you could drive a truck up them.

But this little staircase led straight to the restaurant and Jo had decided that it would be quicker to use it. That was ... what? Six minutes and twelve steps ago?

Good thinking, Polniaczek.

She had hoped to being among the first skiers down the tougher courses today. Jo looked at her watch and then gave Blair a desperate look.

The blonde leaned toward her with a smile. "Relax, Jo. The mountain isn't going anywhere," she whispered. Jo nodded glumly and pointed toward their friends.

"True. But then, neither is Tootie!" she grumbled.

***********

"... so I thought I would be terrible at it. Just awful, 'cos of my weak ankles," Natalie paused and spread some strawberry jam on her biscuit. The writer was describing her ice skating adventure, gesturing with her knife as she spoke.

"Did you know that the boots have these supports in them? Well, okay, not the figure skating ones, but the ones for us beginners? Once I got 'em on and laced up tight -- I was ready to roll!" She popped a bit of bread into her mouth as the rest of her group laughed.

"So then, I take it you had a good time?" Blair asked with a grin. Tootie groaned and sipped her coffee.

"Heck, yeah!" Natalie blurted. "You go so fast! And you can meet so many interesting people as you zoom around the ice," she commented with a wink.

Tootie leaned her elbows on the table. "What she means is she managed to run into or fall in front of every single good looking guy there!" Natalie exhaled and threw up her hands at her friend's appraisal.

"Can I help it if every man on this mountain has good manners?" she asked innocently. Blair nodded in agreement.

Jo grinned. Natalie as the damsel in distress. Who would've thought? She speared the last bite of her omelet with her fork.

"The thing I don't understand is why you had such a tough time, Tootie," she asked carefully. "Seeing as you used to spend so much time on skates ..."

"She only took them off to sleep," interrupted Blair. The college student smiled as she remembered the pig-tailed little girl on rollerskates dashing all around the dormitory at Eastland.

The blonde placed her chin in her hand as though she were in deep thought. "At least, I think she did," she kidded.

Tootie's eyes widened at the joke and she shook a finger at her laughing friends. "Very funny, you guys," she stated indignantly.

"No, I didn't sleep in my skates. Mrs. Garrett wouldn't let me," she chuckled. "She designated my bunk 'a wheel-free zone!'" Recognizing Jo's question deserved an answer, Tootie went on to describe how much similarity there was between the two types of skating.

"I'm good to go as long as I'm in motion," she explained. Natalie nodded in agreement. "I can cross my ankles, turn, skate backward -- you name it."

Jo looked puzzled. "Then what's the problem?"

The senior's face scrunched up. "Stopping. See, on roller skates you just drag your toe stop to slow down."

Jo and Blair nodded.

"That's just instinct for me. That's what I do to stop," said Tootie. Blair winced as she understood the difficulty. No wonder the girl was so banged up and sore.

"Jo, ice skates don't have toe stops. They have toe picks," said Tootie. "Little teeth on the front of the blade that dig into the ice. Drop one of those picks into the ice and your foot stops instantly."

She rubbed an aching knee and rolled her dark eyes. "The trouble is that the rest of you keeps going forward," she admitted. "There isn't a square inch of that rink that I haven't seen up close and personal!"  



	4. PART FOUR

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Tootie stood up gingerly. Better, she thought. I'm beginning to feel more like myself. The rest of her crew were busy scooting their chairs back into place around the sturdy table.

"Okay, last chance for some shopping!" she announced in her typical sunny manner. "Natalie and I are going to check out the cool local boutiques. Are you sure you two don't want to come along?"

Blair looked up expectantly. "You just used two of my favorite words," she quipped as she ticked a finger back and forth. "Shopping and boutiques." 

Jo pushed her chair back with a little more force than was necessary. It rattled the ice in their water goblets. Blair smiled.

Gotcha! she thought. Jo, you are so predictable. "Thanks, but not today," she grinned. The blonde lifted her sunglasses from the table and perched them on top of her head.

"Jo and I have appointments with some black diamonds," she stated matter-of-factly with an exaggerated nod to her roommate. 

"You said it!" the brunette agreed, glad that Blair wasn't trying to back out of their plans.

Tootie shrugged. "Suit yourselves," she said. 

The Eastland reached over and began grabbing ski jackets. The girls had stacked their heavier outwear onto the fifth and unused seat. The budding actress tossed each to its respective owner.

"Jo, Nat, Blair ... ?" her fingers fumbled across something solid in a pocket of the royal blue jacket. The brunette and redhead slipped into their jackets as Tootie inspected the socialite's more closely.

Blair's brown eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Something wrong?" she asked as she watched the girl frisk her coat. 

"Girl, what have you got in here, anyway?" Tootie ran her hands over the outside of the slick material. There! she found it. A little square ... something. 

"Oh, that!" exclaimed the socialite as she tugged her garment away from the senior's exploring hands. She looked up to see that everyone's attention was tuned to her. 

"It's my emergency kit," she said meekly. The ever inquisitive Natalie stepped closer and folder her arms.

"Your what?" she inquired pointedly. She lifted a corner of the coat as Blair slipped it on. "Now, what may I ask, does Blair Warner deem necessary for emergencies?"

"A spare mirror!" blurted Jo who was rewarded with loud laughs from the other girls.

Nat waved her hands to quiet them down. "Not to mention her back-up lip gloss!" she howled. 

"Can't be seen without it!" offered a giggling Tootie. 

Blair leveled a steely glare at all three of her friends. Jo made an attempt to get serious.

"Blair, just tell me one thing. Are we right?" she asked, her green eyes sparkling. She just loved to see the debutante squirm. Blair hesitated, uncertainty evident in her expression.

"Are we?" Jo prodded.

"All right! Yes!" the blonde hissed as she raised her arms in surrender. The girls from Peekskill erupted in laughter once again. 

Blair shook her head. "You caught me," she chuckled. She leaned toward her friends and whispered behind her hand as though imparting a secret. "This whole ski thing is a cover-up. I'm really just here to give make-overs to the locals!"

********  
Jo let the momentum from the lift scoot her onto the summit. She glided gently toward the courtesy station and then jabbed her ski poles into the snow.

Her goggles hung loose around her neck and she just couldn't keep herself from grinning. Seconds later, Blair slid into place beside her.

The blonde let out a long slow whistle. "No wonder you couldn't wait to get up here," she commented as she took a moment to take in their surroundings. 

Jo nodded and looked up at the blue sky above them. She gestured with an upturned thumb. "The only people higher are on 747s!" she smiled.

"Tell me about it," agreed her friend. Blair rubbed her nose. "Can you feel the difference in the air?"

"Oh, yeah. Definitely," said the brunette. "It ain't Mount Everest, but it'll have to do!" she kidded with a wink. 

"Glad you approve," Blair smirked. Jo pointed in the direction of a large marker and they started making their way over toward it. The large carved sign listed the stats of each run and directional arrows to the top of the various courses.

Blair stabbed her poles into the powder and watched her roommate scan the board. She shivered and moved her feet back and forth. From the looks of things, the runs were enormous and some had been used for Olympic pre-trials.

The blonde chewed on her lower lip. "Do I even have to ask?"

The young woman from the Bronx flashed her a confident smile. "According to this..." she said as she donned her goggles and angled her head to the right. 

"... the Viper is that way!"

"Oh, goody," remarked the socialite half-heartedly as she followed her friend toward the eastern side of the mountain.

The young women passed through the drop off area for the lift. Even with their delayed start, they were still among the first on the slopes. The chairs rotated empty above them and started back down the mountain. 

It really looked like a winter wonderland. The runways had been plowed and it made light skiing over to the top of the secluded Viper run. The post that marked the course looked a bit more bedraggled than the rest.

In fact, it seemed to Jo, that marker hadn't been tended to in quite some time. A bolt was wrenched off halfway up the timber. Still, the area all around the sign, as well as the utility building nearby, had neatly dressed snow. 

In fact, there were tidy freshly plowed drifts to either side of the trail's entrance. From where they stood, the mountain just seemed to end some thirty feet beyond them.

Blair sliced to the left and made a quick stop. "It's awfully steep, don't you think?" she asked as she zipped up the front of her jacket.

"Toughest one up here," Jo replied. She readjusted her goggles. Her adrenaline was running high. Just looking at the mountains ahead made her almost dizzy.

"Think we should've worn hats?" 

The brunette thought that over. "Probably." She bent down and dug at the snow with her poles, propelling herself toward the top of the course.

"Yeah," sighed Blair. Jo had crossed most of the distance to the run. The debutante took a deep breath and pushed off toward the ever dropping slope.   
  



	5. PART FIVE

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The skier laughed and taunted his buddy again. "Just admit it, Prichard. I beat your skinny Swiss butt!"

"Only because you cheated!" protested the second skier. "Who ever heard of Brazilian rules for downhills anyway!" 

"Well, you fell for it," chuckled the fellow in the toboggan. His friend nodded sullenly.

"I'm through listening to you," he remarked as he skied along the perimeter of the summit. "Oh, for crying out loud, would you look at that?"

"What are you belly aching about now?"

His friend pointed toward the run known as the Viper. "Look. The trail warnings are gone," he said as he slid to a stop beside a small chunk of wood that emerged from the top of a drift. 

The blonde skier pushed his glove through the drift and swept away some snow. The top of the sign was now visible.

"Unbelievable," muttered his pal as the two loosened their bindings and thrust their skis into the snow. They dug at the post with their hands until it was free of the snow. 

The taller of the two noted that the heavy chain that barred the top of the run was missing as well. He made a mental note to notify the ski and safety patrols when they got back down the mountain.

The young men stood up and surveyed their progress. The brightly painted sign now stood out against the white like a beacon. There was no mistaking the fact the trail was off limits.

"That was really close," said the blonde skier as he dusted the snow off his gloves. He and his friend made frequent trips to this summit. They had been here when the final accident occurred that caused the authorities to close the run.

His buddy nodded though his mouth was set in a thin line. "Some idiot's idea of a joke could've gotten someone else killed!"

***********

Blair carved a neat swath as she cut back to her right, purposefully coming up short to curb her downhill speed.

The run was equal parts deep powder and frozen surface. The upper section had been relatively challenging, but the further down the mountain they got the less sure she was that they should even be there.

Someone should've been through here before us, she thought. There should be some sign of civilization. A trail marker. Something. 

She passed over a widespread icy area and gritted her teeth, concentrating on her inclination and her center of balance. Oh, just peachy. These were the conditions that will scoot your skis right out from under you, she thought grimly. 

The sleek rails chattered against the rock-hard frozen crystals as the blonde skier rocketed down the hillside. Ahead, she saw ridges of snow, just little bumps, really and lowered her stance.

Sure enough, just beyond the ridges was ... nothing. The fluffed up snow indicated hidden ledges and drop offs. Her skis made a slithery sound as she lifted off. Blair worked her poles to hang onto her balance and line up her landing.

As soon as her skis touched down, she executed a series of quick turns to avoid the next of the ledges. Back and forth, she shifted from side to side until she had slowed down enough to stop.

Standing sideways on the hillside, she surveyed the area around them. For all intents and purposes -- it looked like completely uncharted territory. Wild and unruly brush and forest lay beyond the snowfield.

The socialite's chest heaved as she tried to catch her breath. I'm all for a little adventure, but this is ridiculous! she decided. The brown eyes behind the dark glasses scanned the area ahead for her roommate.

A flash of yellow indicated Jo's location as she made rapid progress down the mountainside. Blair frowned.

The terrain was only getting worse and, truth be told, she was having doubts about their ability to make it to the bottom of the run. 

If I'm working this hard, what about Jo? she wondered. The Bronx native had only been skiing for ... what? Six years? She had no doubts as to her friend's stamina or natural athletic ability -- that wasn't the point.

The point was that it was now obvious to Blair that this trail wasn't being used for some reason and here they were flush in the middle of it. What troubled her even more was the realization that they had come so far down the mountain that the only way out was to finish the run.

One way or another, it was the only way out.

**************  
The brunette felt completely exhilarated. The incline of this trail is nearly vertical in some spots, she noted as she jabbed at the surface with a pole to maintain her balance. She sliced through a clear area, relishing the bounce of the hillside as its irregular terrain kept presenting her with challenges.

The glass in her goggles cut down on glare, tinting everything she saw slightly gray. It was sort of like watching a black and white movie in fast forward. 

Another jump rushed toward her and she turned to slow down a bit and line up her approach. She sailed off the rise effortlessly and bent her knees to absorb the impact of the landing.

She grunted under her breath as she teetered uncertainly when she touched down. She'd landed with one foot slightly ahead of the other. Realizing her error, she quickly corrected her stance. 

As thrilling as the run was, she just couldn't shake the feeling that something just wasn't right. She tried to look the area around the trail over and determine just what was bugging her. The trouble was that this downhill was turning into work and that meant it took all her attention just to stay on her skis.

She pumped hard with her right leg and angled herself back across the face of the mountain. Another turn and she scouted ahead for the best way to proceed.

Maybe this wasn't such a great idea after all, she thought as she passed over a crest on the hill and determined that there were miles of territory ahead.

The dark green of the treeline to her left looked large and forbidding. The terrain over her right shoulder was split through every so often with great expanses of rock. 

The fissures arose out of the snow and littered the landscape like scars. Silent and immobile they made dangerous skiing even more treacherous. The craggy chunks were as large as cars and Jo steered well clear of them. To hit one at the speeds she was traveling was suicide.

She thought about her roommate somewhere behind her. A thin worry began gnawing at her conscience. 

Now cut that out! she admonished herself. Blair's an excellent skier. She'll be fine. She can handle it.

Where is everybody, she wondered? She was cutting the first pass through the snow -- something she had never done before. 

Heck, all the other trails had tons of tracks to follow, she thought. She dipped her shoulder and leaned hard back to the right, extending her left leg to steady the turn. 

Halfway through, her right ski slammed into a thin shard of rock, just barely covered by snow. The collision jarred her off balance. That was all that was needed to slide her skis out from under her to the left.

**************  
  
Her knee hit first, then her hip and finally her shoulder as she tumbled out of control.

Jo struck out with a hand to try and stop her momentum. Instead, she rolled abruptly over onto her opposite shoulder and her elbow crashed into the frozen ground.

Gritting her teeth, she fought to get onto her back and keep her feet in front of her. One ski had splintered off, leaving a ragged and dangerous piece that was still attached to her boot.

The frozen crust dipped and pitched beneath her sliding form, battering her incessantly. The incline was perilously steep and other than a few jagged rocks and tiny scrub brush, there was nothing to grab and nothing to stop her fall.

She tumbled again, this time landing hard on her side and hip. Stunned by the impact, she twisted around just in time to see what looked like the edge of the world.

Again and again, she worked her fingers at the surface trying to latch on to something. Jo watched in horror as the ledge approached. Grunting, she punched at the surface desperate to get a handhold.

The earth fell away and she was airborne. 

The brunette held her breath. This is gonna hurt.

She crashed into the snow again some fifteen feet from the outcropping. a snowdrift beneath the rock ledge broke some of the fall and actually helped slow down her descent as she tumbled toward the treeline.

Needles scratched her face as she maneuvered herself back into a feet forward slide. The ground dropped away again and then thudded back with a violent vengeance.

The jarring force knocked the wind out of the skier and left her disoriented. Which way is up? she wondered as she rolled onto her shoulder. Ice slashed at the back of her jacket and pants.

Ride it out, that's it. I can just ride it out. Jo winced as something jagged raked her shoulder.

Below her, a ridge of dark gray stone rose out of the snow like teeth. The boulders, and the gully they had formed, lay directly in her path. She caught a glimpse of them and shuddered.

Weird things popped into the brunette's mind as she thrashed about and forced her bruised body to roll away from the rocky crevasse. Mom will never understand, she thought. She could see her father shaking his head.

A slab of boulder appeared sooner than she expected and she swung her feet toward the mass, taking the brunt of the force with her knees. The twisting motion swung her full around and away from the stones.

The slope dipped away again and the college student recognized the feeling of weightlessness just before the world went dark.

************  
Blair's expression was serious as she navigated through her roommate's tracks. Fatigue was beginning to creep into her muscles. Several times she had to remind herself to unclench the death grip she had on her ski poles when strain began building in her forearms.

She thought about the first few times her Grandfather had taken her skiing as a child. A small smile played across her lips remembering how stiff and ungainly she felt on the strange planks under her boots. 

His advice to the nervous child replayed in her mind now. 

"Blair, relax. Just relax and react."

The blonde's knees took the landing in stride and she crossed back toward the next drop off. She exhaled sharply as she recovered from the impact. 

It isn't like I'm racing for a medal or anything, she thought. All I've got to do is get down one little, bitty mountain. How hard can that be?

The sunlight bounced of the surface before her, gleaming with choppy ice crystals. She purposely ignored the sheer drops to either side of Jo's path. 

Blair's brown eyes narrowed as she swept the terrain ahead. That jacket of Jo's was visible for a country mile. She had been running about two hundred yards ahead.

The debutante frowned. Okay, Polniaczek. Where'd you go?  
  



	6. PART SIX

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The senior held her hand aloft, wiggling her fingers to let the light play across the ring. She smiled at the pearl that was surrounded by the gently colored leaves. The Black Hills gold was tinted in soft shades of green and rose. 

The hint of color surrounding the gem helped to set off its brilliance. "Oh, yeah," she whispered to herself more so than the shopkeeper. It really is beautiful and it isn't too expensive, thought Tootie. 

She waggled her hand at her friend who was busy perusing the display case full of charms. "What do you think, Nat?"

The writer looked up and hooked a lock of auburn hair behind her ear. "I think Blair's rubbed off on you," she grinned. Tootie smirked at the comment as Natalie's face took on a serious expression.

"First jewelry, then comes a dye job," she shook her head as though she pictured the progression taking place. "When will the madness end?" Natalie giggled.

Tootie rolled her dark eyes heavenward. "What? Are you saying you don't think I could make it as a blonde?" she asked solemnly. 

Natalie chuckled nervously. Uh, oh. She tried to go back to looking at the charms. That little silver snowflake is awfully cute...

"Natalie?" Tootie prodded impatiently.

"Oh, what?!" blurted the writer. Her friend gave her a serious glare, one brow arching slightly in a questioning manner.

The redhead rubbed her forehead. "Fine! It's a terrific ring! Buy it and enjoy! So what if you live on corn flakes for the rest of the trip!" she grunted. Tootie's sour expression took on an even angrier note.

When am I gonna learn? thought Natalie. She raised her hands animatedly as she spoke. "Tootie, I'm sorry. It's just... there are times when I think we've got one too many blondes in our foursome now, you know?" she stammered.

The Eastland senior nodded slowly. She seemed to consider her friend's words for a moment. "But the ring? You don't think it's too much?" she asked slyly.

"Heck, no!" agreed Nat as she moved closer to inspect the bauble. The tiny tag dangled beneath the gold band. Her eyes widened as she spied the price. "In fact, you might consider buying two of 'em!" she offered brightly.

Tootie smiled and turned her hand over again, admiring the contrast of the metal to her skin. "You think?" The girl smiled. She turned to the shopkeeper who was trying hard not to laugh at the antics of the young women.

"I'll take it," she grinned. 

*********  
The narrow furrows dipped and pitched their way through the snow. Again and again, the blonde fought against the pull of the mountain. The incline lent itself to a rapid descent and lured skiers into committing themselves to a fast and furious battle to the bottom.

Blair wasn't interested in going fast. She intended to follow her roommate's path carefully and see where she had gone. 

I suppose its hoping for too much that she might have found a cabin and Jeep? she thought wryly. She adjusted her skis and worked to control her pace, dodging another ledge of rock.

This is insane! though the socialite. There are back country runs that don't have drops like these. Jo's path veered back sharp to the right and Blair pumped hard with her left leg to keep her roommate's tracks in view.

Her skis slid across the granular ice crystals, crunching as though there were pebbles beneath the surface. The ride was rough and it took all her skill to stay on her feet. 

There! She thought as she saw her friend's tracks ahead, noticing where they broke into the powder again. Cutting sharply, she honed her speed down again and entered the snow higher on the mountain than had Jo.

The blonde worked quickly, back and forth, back and forth carving her own path beside the previous run. She kept the deep cuts from Jo's skis just off her left shoulder.

She scanned the area ahead, still wondering why she'd lost sight of her roommate. It's not like she was going that fast, she decided as she grunted and turned away from another drop off. 

The tracks beside her rolled along, keeping pace with the cautious skier who followed them.

And then, they stopped.

*********  
Dark lashes fluttered against the skier's cheeks. Then, her eyes opened hesitantly accompanied by a sharp hiss of a breath. 

Bad idea, she thought as a savage pain ripped through her side. Okay, deep breathing is overrated anyway. 

Think, Jo. What do you do now? Inventory. She moved slightly, flexing her limbs and was relieved to find most things in working order. 

Some parts hurt worse than others, but after a tumble like that, she decided feeling anything at all had to be a good thing. Jo dug an elbow into the snow and attempted to push herself into a sitting position.

As her ribcage flexed, the girl groaned in agony and was forced to let her shoulders drop back to the ground. Tears slid from behind her tightly shut eyelids at the impact. 

Her hands balled into fists as she took shallow breaths and waited for the pain to subside. 

**********  
That just isn't possible.

Blair's eyes narrowed and she began working herself to a standstill. Finally, she stood sideways on the mountain. The snowfield beyond her looked untouched. 

She can't ... disappear. 

Breathing hard, she raised her sunglasses and squinted into the distance. The glare was unmerciful and she quickly repositioned her shades. The socialite's heart thundered in her chest.

She looked back up the mountain and gauged the distance to where Jo's trail had vanished. There was another couple of hundred feet or so until the run became laced with rock. 

Not just rock, she noted sadly. Big, silent, unmoving boulders that just lay in wait for skiers. Blair took a deep breath and tried to calm her nerves.

The debutante began a slow and steady descent. A depression in the snow caught her attention and she eased over to investigate. Beneath her, something dark lay on the surface of the barren white.

An abrupt stop later, the blonde reached down and lifted her roommate's goggles from the snow. Bought especially for the trip, the professional eyewear was Jo's pride and joy.

Blair turned the mask over in her hands. The rubber rim was scarred and the lens was horribly scratched. A knot of dread began twisting in the socialite's stomach.

A quick glance back up the trail and her mind was made up. She hung the gear around her neck and cupped her hands to her mouth. Avalanches be damned. 

"Jo!" she shouted. "Jo, can you hear me!" The only sounds that greeted her was the gentle play of the wind through the fir trees.

Blair started down the mountain again. She followed the most logical path, hoping that gravity would've taken care of the rest. Here and there, she thought she could find a disturbance in the snow. 

Again and again, she stopped and called out to her friend. The debutante gnawed anxiously at her bottom lip. 

Jo, please, answer. Please?

White, gray, green. White, gray, green. The socialite's dark serious gaze swept the hillside. The bright snow, the steely ash of the ravines and the deep forest seemed a blur to the girl. 

White, green, yellow. Yellow? 

Blair carved out a sloppy stop and slid to her own knees in the process. I take back every rotten thing I every thought about that stupid day-glo jacket of yours, she thought happily. 

"Jo Polniaczek! Can you hear me?"

**********  
The temperature had taken the edge off the throb in her knee. In fact, the cold had begun to seep through her clothes. It was lulling her to sleep. She forced her eyes open and blinked.

Above her stood the towering tops of evergreens. I must have rolled to the treeline, she thought dazedly. She could smell the pine. She turned her head and saw the endless blue Colorado sky above.

Jo had stopped trying to sit up. The last attempt had sapped her strength so drastically that she was fighting to stay conscious. Just getting her battered body into a more comfortable position had been a major ordeal for the young woman.

Cracked my head, busted some ribs and mangled my knee. All in all, I have had better days, she thought dispiritedly. She blinked slower and slower as a calm settled into her system. 

Huh? Green eyes snapped open. Did someone just call my name?

Blair. 

Jo wheezed out a response, but her battered ribs wouldn't let her draw in an adequate breath to yell. She had stopped shivering. 

Blair, I'm sorry. It's not your fault.

*********  
Her fingers fumbled with the bindings and she cursed. The clamps opened on the second attempt and she thrust the skis aside into the brush as she scrambled on her knees toward her friend.

"Jo!" Blair crawled closer, terrified by what she might find. Why doesn't she answer me? The blonde reached the still form and paused. She pulled off her sunglasses to get a better look.

"Jo?" She tugged off a glove and put her hand against her friend's cold cheek. The brunette's brows furrowed at her touch and Blair gasped in relief. 

Thank you, God. Thank you, she smiled as her vision blurred for an instant. She swiped her gloved hand over her eyes and watched as her friend's eyes opened hesitantly. 

"Blair?" she whispered.

The socialite swallowed hard. That voice was small and fragile -- it didn't sound like Jo at all. Blair's smile faultered as she considered how badly her friend might be hurt. As frightened as she was, she kept her emotions in check.

"The one and only," the blonde responded confidently. She pushed a lock of dark hair away from her roommate's face. The girl's cheekbone was scratched and raw. 

A small smile crept across the injured skier's face. "Am I ever glad... to see you," she said softly.

Blair nodded. "Same here. I thought I'd lost you there for a while," she admitted. Her dark eyes swept over her friend. "Anything broken?"

Jo raised her left knee, her teeth clenched as she completed the motion and set her heel in the snow. "Not that I can tell, but everything is ... dented up real, real good," she groaned. 

Blair nodded in quiet sympathy as she crawled around to better face her friend. "Tell me about it," she stated calmly as she tried to think of a good way to ask her next question. 

The socialite felt sick at her stomach. There was no best way to ask your best friend if she had broken her spine. She reached down, slid a hand under Jo's calf and gave the muscle there a firm grab.

"Hey, cut that out!" Jo rewarded her by smacking weakly at her shoulder. The action was typical Jo and Blair released the breath she had been holding.

"Sorry! Did that hurt? I just... well, I was afraid... " she stammered as she stripped off her jacket. 

The brunette's temper subsided as she guessed what her roommate had be investigating. "Pretty sneaky, Warner," she sighed.

Blair leaned back on her heels. "I learned from the best," she grinned. She let her gaze drift over the mountain and then stared into the forest. Jo's eyes had closed again.

"Jo?" she grabbed one of her friends hands and shook it. The girl's eyes opened slowly as if from a deep sleep. "What's the story? Did you hit your head?"

"Yeah, a couple of times," she reached up only to lose her breath and let her arm fall over her chest. "The last one ... put me out ... cold," she wheezed. 

Blair's hand drifted along her friend's side, not touching but putting the pieces together in her mind. "Your side hurt a lot?" 

Jo nodded and focused on her friend's voice. This was bad. Definitely bad, thought the brunette. She turned her head to the side when hot tears began stinging her eyes.

She felt the socialite squeeze her hand. "What else? Don't hold back," asked Blair firmly.

The girl from the Bronx took a shuddering breath and gritted her teeth. "My knee. I messed up my knee," she admitted angrily. "I don't think I can walk."

Blair draped her parka over her friend and stood up. "Then I'd better get busy," she announced. Jo scowled at her as the blonde gathered her skis and spiked them in the snow near her fallen friend.

"Didn't you hear me?" Jo asked. 

"I heard you," the blonde answered. She was surveying the forest with her hands on her hips. Her turtleneck would keep her warm enough during the daylight and right now, her friend needed the extra warmth. 

Blair turned and centered her determined gaze on her friend. 

"And Jo, before you suggest something really idiotic like my leaving you on this godforsaken mountain to get help -- let me give you a little advice. Don't even try it, 'cos I'm not listening."  



	7. PART SEVEN

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Natalie was in love. She liked the smell of the place, the look of the place, the way the bright sunlight filtered through the stained-glass partitions that made up the top of the shop's windows.

The door opened again and a tiny set of brass jingle bells rattled cheerily behind her. The writer grinned and rubbed her hands together excitedly. The bookstore was tucked in among the trendy spots in the town's quaint shopping district.

"Tootie, I want you to be the first to know. I have died and gone to heaven!" she remarked in her usual exuberant manner. 

Her roommate leaned across an antique library table that displayed books by local authors. "Yeah, I kind of got that feeling from you," she smirked good-naturedly. 

"You did?"

"It was pretty obvious, seeing as you've squealed at least twice and I've distinctly heard three 'ooooohs!' since we got here," she quipped. The Eastland senior gathered her selections up and went in search of the clerk to ring out.

Natalie pouted in the direction of her friend's departure. "That is so not true," she grumbled as she settled another book across her knee. "I've only 'oooohed' once!"

She ran a thumb along the spine of the selection, her eyes dancing with delight at her find. The book was "Lyrics" by Bob Dylan and it contained the words to the musician's songs plus his own illustrations.

Wow, she thought reverently. Twenty-three years worth of songs. Really, it seemed to her, Dylan's words played much better as poems than they did songs. 

She flipped through the pages, noticing verses she knew and some she only suspected. A little giggle emerged from the reporter as she recalled a time when she played one of the musician's albums over and over again. 

At least Tootie was supportive of my beatnik semester, she smiled. Blair, on the other hand, suggested that I start a coffee house. In another zip code. 

The redhead shook her head at the memory from her junior year at Eastland.

And Jo? Well, Jo had said that an album like that was a rare find and should be put away and protected lest some terrible accident break it into little, tiny pieces.

"What 'cha got, Nat?" asked Tootie. Her question jarred her friend out of her recollection.

"Look, 'Lyrics,'" she answered proudly. Natalie shuffled the volumes in her hands. "And... 'The Vampire Lestat.'" 

The younger girl made a face. "I'm not sure which one of those scares me worse!" she quipped. 

Natalie rolled her eyes. "Don't worry. I have no intention of singing my way through the Dylan collection," she reported as she glanced at her watch. 

The writer's eyes got large as she looked at the timepiece. Maybe it stopped? "Uh, Tootie, what time is it?" she asked cautiously.

Her friend folded her arms. "It's nearly two in the afternoon."

Natalie swallowed nervously. "That would mean that we've been here for ...?"

"An hour and a half. Give or take a little," smiled the senior.

"No way! That's impossible! I didn't... I mean, I couldn't have ... " Natalie sputtered. She sighed. "I did, didn't I? Lost all track of time. Left you bored and abandoned in a musty bookstore. What a rotten thing for me to do! Sure, it's like the neatest place I've been in ..."

"Natalie?" 

"... oh, probably three or four years, but this is your vacation, too." She smacked her forehead lightly with the palm of her hand. "Here I am hogging all your time by keeping you stuck ... "

"Nat, would you please..."

"... and look at that! We missed lunch! Well, that settles it. Come on, let's get a bite to eat. My treat. I can't believe you didn't just drag me out ..."

"Natalie, would you just shut up a minute!" interrupted Tootie. Her friend blinked and then closed her mouth.

Tootie dangled a brown sack in front of her talkative friend, letting it sway back and forth. "I wasn't bored. I bought books," she grinned. 

The girl's dark eyes twinkled as she finished the rest of her story. "The guy that sold me the books, Quentin, is going to take me to dinner tonight. So, I repeat: I was not bored."

Natalie cocked her head. Well, now that's interesting, she thought. "You bought books?"

**********

"Hmmm? Wha...?" Jo stirred and looked up. Her green eyes had a groggy cast to them. Blair was sifting through the parka she had wrapped about her roommate.

"Need to dig in a pocket for a second..." she responded as she fumbled with her blue jacket. The socialite frowned as her Jo seemed to be drifting off again. She settled into the snow and looked for the small compartment that was hidden behind a Velcro closure.

Blair's cold fingers felt their way along the lining. "Hey, you're supposed to be watching for bears," she remarked with a gentle nudge to rouse her friend. 

"Aye, aye Goldilocks," said Jo with a weak smile. 

Yes! thought Blair as she located the pocket and ripped it open. She withdrew the square parcel that Tootie had found by accident that morning. Jo raised her head to see what was going on and grunted when her ribs protested.

In frustration, she returned to her original position. "Got a cup of coffee in there?" Jo quipped as she caught her breath. "God, could I use a piping hot cup of coffee!" 

The blonde smiled and nodded in agreement. "Right now, I'd even settle for one of yours." She turned the soap-sized parcel over in her hand.

Jo raised her head. "I make... great coffee," she grunted. Blair adjusted the parka and bundled her roommate up again.

"No, you make great sludge," she countered impishly.

*********  
Even though she had on gloves, the metal rings had begun to chafe her fingers. Blair gritted her teeth and pulled the wire hard to the right one more time. Finally, the strands sliced through the branch and she watched it fall away from the evergreen. 

She flexed her thumbs, hoping that the feeling would return soon, and carefully wound up the wire saw. The thin metal loops weren't much thicker than fishing line but they were surprisingly strong and covered with sharp teeth. 

Her grandfather had packed the emergency kit for her during her teens. Though the headstrong Warner never once considered that she would actually have to use any of its contents -- she had transferred it faithfully from jacket to jacket through the years.

It was a tradition. She didn't ski without it. 

Blair reached down and grabbed the heavy branch, adding it to the others she had cut. After arranging them to move all at one time, she began dragging the lush evergreen cuttings to the snowfield.

Technically, I didn't lie this morning, she thought to herself as she navigated the deepening snow that lay beyond the trees. She stumbled and nearly toppled over after sinking in to her knee.

She took a moment to rest and conserve her energy. Blair looked back up the hillside to where her roommate waited.

There really is a mirror and lip gloss in there, she smirked. Well, lip balm, anyway. She lifted the first of the boughs and put it in place on the mountainside. Then, one after the other, she arranged them into a pattern.

Amid all the yards of pure white there was now a deep green cross. 

The blonde coed nodded and then turned her face up, searching the skies. Okay, somebody. Anybody. Come and get us.

**********  
The young men climbed the snow covered steps and headed in to the building. The Aslan Mountain Rescue and Public Safety Offices were housed together. Plows, maintenance equipment and supplies were stored in a cavernous garage right next to the sleek snowmobiles used by the ski patrol.

As was the case with most of the mountain village, the office itself had a rustic flair. The door from the street led to a short hallway with doors to either side. Turn left and you found yourself at the Public Safety division. Veer to the right and just past the secondary door lay the volunteers and support staff of the mountain's ski patrol and emergency rescue teams.

The wiry Scandinavian burst through the door rushing ahead of his friend. Prichard leaned across the wooden counter and looked into the office. 

"Hello-o-o?" he called as he thumped the countertop with his hands. His American friend frowned and paced the length of the barricade.

A radio squawked noisily in the corner of the front office, leaving Tucker to believe that someone had to be nearby. In truth, someone was always on duty because the weather had a way of turning from mild to frightening in a matter of minutes.

Take hundreds of tourists from all over the world, turn them loose on a mountain with dozens of hotels, shops, bars and slopes and you've got plenty of people to safeguard. Now, factor in the mountains and the harsh conditions and you've got a round the clock set of every changing challenges.

The two fellows stared at one another in disbelief when the sound of water flushing sounded loudly near the rear of the facility. Prichard sputtered out a laugh as the hinges of a bathroom door squeaked.

"Mystery solved," quipped Tucker as his Swiss friend shook his head. 

Within moments, a young man appeared at the counter. "Something I can help you with?" he inquired politely.

The fellow in the toboggan nodded. "Actually, yeah. You're going to need to get a repair team up to the entrance of the Viper..."

"Sir, that run is closed," interrupted the teenager. "No skiing allowed on that slope."

Tucker took a breath and leveled his gray green eyes at the boy. "I know that. However, some moron buried the warning markers," he intoned carefully. 

Prichard sensed that his buddy was very close to losing his cool and so he leaped into the discussion. "We dug out one of the signs by hand but all the other cautions are gone. Also, the chain across the top of the run is missing. Right now, it looks skiable," he explained.

"What exactly do you mean, skiable, sir?" hedged the young man.

What kind of stupid question was that? Tucker's patience was wearing out. Fast.

"Like an open run. Like one that's maintained and used," growled the man in the toboggan. 

"Like one that you guys need to get up there and block off. You do know what 'block off' means, don't you? As in barricade, fasten up, obstruct? As in keep people from getting hurt?"

"Yes, sir. I understand. We'll get right on that," replied the fellow with public safety. "You said it was the Viper, right? Okay, let's just get a few details down and I'll send a crew straight-away," he said as he reached beneath the counter and retrieved a sheet of paper.

The skiers dutifully went back over the information with the officer and reported their names and addresses. They left the facility with the young man's promise to speed things along to correct the situation.

Once they had gone, the DPS officer sank into a chair and stared at the report. All he had to do was deposit the report in Livingston's in-box and notify one of the active crews. The team could be on site within thirty-minutes and the Viper would be locked down.

And I'll be out of a job, he thought.

The teenager looked at the clock and then checked the weather report. A storm was rolling in. Won't be much more skiing today, he decided. What if I wait and do the repairs myself in the morning... ?

He ran the scenarios though his mind. Those guys said they'd uncovered one of the markers. That's probably enough. 

Yeah. That's plenty.

I'll dig everything out on the AM run, he smiled as he stood up. With that decision, Chad Pinkus slid the report under the desk calendar and loped off to the snack machine.  
  



	8. PART EIGHT

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She looked at the makeshift splint that was fastened securely to her knee. Two evergreen boughs had been snapped to size, stripped of their needles and bound to her leg.

Jo grunted and shifted her hips a little. Terrific, she thought. My butt is asleep. Blair had moved her friend to a dark chunk of rock that lay near the edge of the forest. The granite outcropping had shed a good portion of its snow and the surface of the stone had soaked up a bit of the sun's warmth.

The trip to the stones wasn't much fun, she recalled with a frown. Every breath and step and movement just plain hurt. 

Still, I think it was as tough on Blair as it was me. The blonde had apologized and apologized as they made their slow progress to Jo's new perch. Now, propped up and warmer, the girl from the Bronx studied her brace.

The socialite had removed the waist cord from her parka and used it to attach the splint. Pretty slick, Warner, she thought to herself. 

The brunette leaned back against the sturdy support of the ledge. She felt terrible and it had nothing to do with her physical condition. What she did feel was guilt and it was bearing heavily upon her spirit.

It was plain to her that she had made a mistake. No one else was coming down this side of the mountain. She couldn't even be sure that they had taken the proper course once the terrain got tricky. Her gaze flickered up toward the cloud covered sky.

No helicopters, no planes -- nothing. With a wince, she repositioned herself, trying to find a more comfortable pose. She didn't have any luck.

Serves me right, she thought angrily. Her left hand crept up to rub her eyes, the glove feeling odd as it passed over her skin. No one is even going to start looking for us until tomorrow. Tootie and Nat won't worry until we don't show up for breakfast.

************  
The blonde skier clambered slowly up onto the rocks beside her friend. "Hey, how are you feeling?" She bit the end of a glove and yanked it off with her teeth, extending her hand toward her roommate. 

Jo shrugged and Blair nodded. 

"Uh, huh, that's what I figured you'd say," said Blair as she snagged one of Jo's hands and pulled off the other girl's glove. Jo frowned but didn't put up a fight as Blair wrapped her hand around Jo's and gave the brunette's chilly fingers a squeeze.

"Why, Nurse Ratchett, you have such warm hands," smirked the girl from the Bronx. 

A blonde brow arched above the frame of the socialite's sunglasses. "The better to take your temperature with, my dear," she smiled. She held her friend's hand for a moment more and then helped Jo get her glove back on.

Blair wiggled her fingers and moved her hand until it was hovering over Jo's injured ribs. "Now, would you like to give me an honest appraisal of your condition or do I have to keep feeling about until I can draw my own conclusions?" 

Jo's eyes narrowed. "You wouldn't," she said with a shake of her head.

"Just try me," threatened the debutante. 

The brunette decided that it would be a lot less painful to simply tell the truth. After detailing how she felt, she was relieved when Blair helped her move to different spot among the boulders. This time, her roommate was able to get her injured leg elevated slightly.

That helped and though it was uncomfortable to move, it did feel better to get some blood circulating again. Meanwhile, Blair perched a little higher on the rocks, grateful to be out of the snow for the time being.

Jo scooted forward a bit and was able to reach her goggles. The girls had filled the visor with snow and then placed it prominently on a bare expanse of the dark stone. 

The black rubber and smoked glass allowed the sun's rays to warm the eyewear enough to melt the snow. It wasn't much, just a few tablespoons at a time, but it would keep them from chilling their insides by eating snow.

The brunette gritted her teeth and forced her arm to hold the goggles and their contents steady as she brought them closer. After taking a sip, she tilted her head to check on Blair.

Her roommate had one leg extended and the other bent at the knee. Her fingers were laced together around her knee and her head rested against the boulder she leaned upon. 

The dark Ray-bans made it impossible to tell, but Jo would've wagered that her friend's eyes were closed. 

The brunette fidgeted, impatient with being so helpless. She steadied the water in her hand and pushed herself up a little.

"Blair?" she grunted as the pain in her side flared with the movement. At the sound of her name, the blonde was instantly in motion, scrambling down the crevasse until she had reached her friend. 

"What? What's wrong?" she asked breathlessly. 

Jo's fingertips tapped the edge of the goggles. She was surprised by speed of her friend's response and embarrassed that she elicited such haste. 

"Nothing, I just thought you might be thirsty," she said with a look that could only be described as apologetic. "Didn't mean to worry you." 

Blair chuckled and sat down. She perched her shades on the top of her head and took the offered drink. Two swallows later, her eyes settled on her roommate and she shook her head.

"What?" asked Jo defensively. 

Blair leaned forward slightly. "You really don't get it, do you? I'm going to worry until we get you to a hospital. Get over it."

The brunette relaxed somewhat and pursed her lips in thought. "Have you always been this bossy?" she asked.

Her friend angled her head down. Her skeptical look showed that she couldn't believe what she was hearing. 

  
*********  
  
The captain of the unit arrived back at the barracks to monitor the afternoon duty shift. Ray Walton hurried through the doorway, hung up his parka and waved to the dispatcher. A quick revolution and he was on his way back through the station. As he passed the common area, he noticed a medic working on some gear. 

  
That Kurt, he thought to himself, always prepping for the next big emergency. He's probably repairing a harness or re-working a line, or ...? he stopped and scratched his beard.

"Polishing boots," he said aloud, in a slightly puzzled manner. The tall man would've guessed most anything else. The articles in question weren't for slogging through frozen muck. They weren't work boots, either.

Well, I've seen it all, thought Walton. Kurt Chambers just didn't strike him as the spit and polish sort of fellow. Having seen the young man's everyday footwear -- an ancient pair of mud-kickers that had been duct-taped across one toe -- it didn't take a genius to notice the change.

Kurt's eyes looked up from his work though his hand kept massaging the polish into the dark leather. "Afternoon, Captain," he smiled. 

"Afternoon, Chambers," the older man replied with a knowing grin. He squatted down and picked up the highly polished right boot. "This sort of behavior usually leads to all sorts of strange things, son," he said seriously.

The young man's eyes narrowed. "Such as?" He wasn't quite sure where this line of reasoning was headed.

The Captain inspected the footwear and then set it back down. "Suits and ties," he said as he stood back up and began walking away. "Flowers and candy. Moonlight and romance." 

The man's insulated ski boots thumped reassuringly as he left. Kurt shook his head as his superior's voice kept rumbling along, describing things all the way to his office. The last thing Kurt heard clearly was "proposals and rings."

Worse things could happen, Cap, he decided with a grin as he reached for the buffing brush.

*********  
Perfect. Just perfect, thought the socialite sullenly. She had climbed off the ridge of rock and dropped into a waist deep snowdrift. The girl raised her arms out of the powder, hoping she could get clear before the stuff managed to creep into her bibbed insulated pants.

Jo heard her grunt and the muttering that accompanied her efforts to get clear of the thick snow.

"Really, Blair..." she chided. "Such language!" 

The blonde swiveled about and glared at her friend. She took careful steps, feeling her way back to more solid footing. "I know!" she agreed. 

"I'd feel really terrible about everything I said -- if I hadn't learned all of it from you," she wisecracked. She hauled herself free and dusted the worst of the snow away before it could melt and soak her turtleneck.

The brunette grinned. "Glad to know I was of help," she chuckled and placed a hand over her tender ribs. Of the four young women, Jo was the one who was always in motion. She was on the go from the time she awoke -- as Mrs. Garrett would say, "Off and running" -- with hardly a moment of idle time to spare.

Her patience with being incapacitated was wearing very thin. A gloved fist slammed down in frustration.

"Dammit! I'm useless! I can't walk. I can't breathe... I can't even laugh!"  
she grumbled. 

Blair felt for her friend, but chose to diffuse the situation. "At least you still have your sunny disposition," she offered lightly with a smile.

Jo's attention snapped back from her dark musings and she shook her head. Her friend was pointing at something. The injured skier's eyes tracked along the path her friend indicated.

"How deep would you say the snow is between that tree and the edge of the rocks down there?" asked Blair.

The brunette raised up gingerly on her elbows and surveyed the distance. At the edge of her view she could see where Blair had tumbled into drift. Her eyes tracked up the steep mountainside and noticed that it looked nearly level in places.

That was all an illusion. The snowfalls had drifted against the boulders and flattened out over time. The incline was still there -- just buried.

Dark eyebrows raised as their owner chanced a guess. "Could be maybe ten, twelve feet in places," she surmised. She could see her friend begin to smile. "Blair, what are you thinking?"

"I think I just found our accommodations for the night," was the reply.  
  



	9. PART NINE

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Natalie's cheeks were beginning to tire. She willed herself not to blink. Don't do it. Don't do it.

Tootie made an adjustment. Her fingers deftly flicking small switches and giving the lens a gentle twist and nudging her friend into tighter focus. The blue of the mountain sky was beginning to lose some of its brilliance.

The girl frowned. I knew we should have done this earlier in the day.

Her subject drew in a careful breath and risked a quick swallow. The reporter's words came from a mouth that didn't move.

"Take the picture already!" Natalie hissed from behind her frozen grin.   
"Fer Pete's sake, Tootie! My teeth are freezing! Talk about ice caps!"

Luckily, Tootie was familiar with Natalie's lack of patience. "Hush. You cannot rush art," she whispered from behind the camera.

At any other time, the reporter would've rolled her eyes at that remark. However, she didn't want her friend to capture that precise expression in an eight-by-ten glossy -- so she just sighed.

"You look great, by the way," encouraged Tootie as she snapped off the first of several rapid exposures.

Nat cocked her head slightly, careful not to ruin the pose. "I bet I look older. It's been two years since I sat down," she quipped out of the side of her mouth.

"Har dee har har," remarked the Eastland senior sarcastically. She dropped down to one knee and re-focused. "Okay, now look down here."

The camera clicked again. "Good!" she exclaimed happily. The girl steadied the heavy device and then moved her left hand away, gesturing as she did.

"Turn your chin a little, a little more. Great! Now, eyes over here, please," she wiggled the fingers on her free hand. "Hold that, Nat."

Natalie relaxed as the shutter clicked again and again. This was my idea, after all, she admitted to herself.

The auburn haired writer was posed against the backdrop of the majestic Rocky mountains. Her perch was an isolated corner of the resort's observation deck. 

Tootie's thumb advanced the film so she could shoot again. She grinned at her friend who was dressed in a dark green sweater and jeans. The color suited her well. These are going to be great, she decided.

The girl's deep brown eyes watched as the viewfinder framed the scene perfectly. The sky, the mountains and the writer looked terrific. Natalie had chosen to put college on hold while she spent some time, as she was fond of saying, "to get to know about the world."

Though she would never admit it, that decision had made Tootie nearly frantic with worry. Somehow the senior thought that the two friends would always be together. Now, Natalie had funky friends from her various jobs and spent time saving her pay for a trip alone through Europe.

She's hardly ever home anymore, Tootie thought sadly. Even when she was there it seemed that she was too busy writing in one of her journals to be disturbed. 

Tootie repositioned herself and snapped off a few more photos. Just over the course of the past few minutes, Natalie's expressions had gone from posed, to relaxed, to somber and now she just looked like... Natalie.

The girl from D.C. had to admit that her friend's new life agreed with her. She was more content than she had ever been. 

There was a twinkle that appeared whenever the reporter was getting ready to launch a zinger of some sort and Tootie hoped that she'd caught it here on this mountain. Maybe even in one of these photos.

"All done!" The dark haired girl lowered the camera. "Which book jacket do you see these on?" she asked with a smile as her friend climbed down from the railing.

Nat tucked her hands under her arms to warm them and considered the question. 

"It think this one has to go on a collection of poems," she replied jauntily. "About youth and life and friendship."

Tootie nodded in agreement. "Sounds great. Of course, you'll save me a copy?" 

"Are you kidding?" responded Natalie as she led the way back to the warm confines of the resort. "You get a photo credit and an autographed copy!" 

Tootie giggled. "Can't beat a deal like that, now, can I?"

The writer grinned and held open the door to the lodge. She really did have a collection of poems that would fit the bill perfectly. She'd started them right after she had turned down the chance to go to college. 

It had been a scary decision. But, luckily for Nat, her best friend had been behind her all the way.

The reporter watched as her roommate stepped through the doorway. The girl was busy suggesting ways to spend the next few hours of the afternoon.

Natalie shook her head. If she likes the idea of a photo credit, then she'll love the dedication, she thought with a sly grin.

"Natalie?"

"Hmmm? Did you say something?"

Tootie folded her arms. "You haven't heard a word I said," she remarked flatly.

Nat bumped into her playfully, brushing her shoulder with her own. "Not true. I always listen to all your good ideas," she countered lightly.

"And just now? What do you call that?"

Natalie turned to face her friend and walked backward in front of her. "Still waiting to hear a good idea," she remarked with a wink as she skipped away and down the hall.

************

"Shut up."

"Would you just listen to me for a second here?" pleaded the brunette. 

"Nope. Sorry, not interested."

"It's the best solution, Blair. You know it. Just quit being stubborn and admit it." 

Blair's golden head tilted slightly and she raised a hand to her ear. "Did you say something?" she inquired in an overly polite manner. "See, I seem to remember hearing a high pitched whining sound." 

She put extra emphasis on the word 'whining' in the hopes that Jo would take the hint. Blair waved the shard of wood she used as a shovel at her friend.

"Keep it up, Polniaczek, and I'll break into selections from 'The Sound of Music' just to drown you out!" she teased. 

She repositioned herself to be able to reach further into the drift. 

"Blair, I'm not kidding around ... "

The socialite sighed in exasperation and let her head drop forward. Then again, Jo never did know when to leave well enough alone, she decided. She sat back on her heels.

"Well," she announced as she stabbed the broken ski into the powder. "Go ahead. Get it over with so I can get back to work," Blair huffed. Her roommate looked at her skeptically. 

"No, I mean it. I really want to hear how my leaving you to die is going to enrich my life," the blonde said bitterly. 

Jo's eyes narrowed. Ouch, talk about cutting to the chase, she thought. The girl gestured weakly, a finger poised to punctuate her remarks. "You are missing the point ..." she sputtered.

"No, Jo -- you are," the socialite countered. 

"But, Blair, you could make it. I know you could."

The socialite took a deep breath. "Maybe..." her voice trailed off. She raised her eyes and considered the deepening clouds overhead. The afternoon sky had gone from bright azure to a muddy blue. 

The debutante's expression darkened. It won't be long before the color changes to gray, she thought. I've spent enough time in Colorado to know what comes next.

Snow. And lots of it.

"Let's just concentrate on getting through tonight, okay?" said Blair, as she tried to keep the tone light. 

Jo shook her head. "You could get ..."

"All right, that's it!" shouted the blonde.

The brunette covered her face with her arms. I didn't really thing she'd do it, thought Jo as the first bars of 'Climb Every Mountain' rang out bright and clear.

*************

The ski patrolman thrust his hands into the pockets of his bright orange jacket. He resisted the urge to climb the treated wood steps two at a time. Taking a deep breath, Aaron stepped aside and let an older couple get past him on the landing.

It was just a chance, really. It wasn't as if they had made definite plans. More like an offhand remark about wanting to try out the grill for lunch. 

Topping the stairs, he spied his buddy Kurt Chambers with his boots propped up on the lowest deck rail.

"Man, you are hopeless!" grinned Aaron as he ascended the final step to the large observation platform that stretched around the outdoor grill. Kurt leaned back and spread his arms wide, stretching lazily.

The tanned skier let his arms drop back to his sides. "Funny that I'd run into you here," he smirked good-naturedly.

Aaron laughed, ambled over and straddled a bench near his buddy. "This is a pretty trendy spot, mountain boy," he replied. "You've always avoided it like the plague."

"You called it 'too damn touristy,' as I recall," he continued noticing the uncomfortable grimace that the replay of the words brought to his friend's face. Aaron grinned and looked around the platform, scanning the busy promenade.

The young man sighed and leaned forward. "But, I suppose, if you're looking for a rich, blonde chick from New York, it's as good a place as any," he quipped. 

Kurt scowled at his paramedic partner, his eyes narrowing as he thought of how best to retaliate. That's when he noticed the glint of the metallic ribbon.

"What's this?" He snatched at the small package that peeked from his friend's pocket, narrowly escaping without getting slugged for his efforts. He studied the length and width of the thin box.

"I'd say it's a pair of ski gloves," he stated in a knowing manner, as he maneuvered the package away from Aaron's grasping hands. "Fairly expensive ones, too." 

He laughed as his buddy began to redden with embarrassment. Kurt made a show out of testing the heft of the package. "Feels like smalls. Like the kind you would buy for a woman," he grinned and tossed the gift back to Aaron who caught it easily.

"Looks like I ain't the only hopeless fellow on this mountain," he replied as he folded his arms and put his feet back up on the rail. 

Aaron swiveled about and did the same, crossing his boots at the ankle. "So have you seen them?" he asked hopefully.

"Nope," replied Kurt. He looked at his watch. "Not yet."

************

She wiggled forward, her elbows digging into the snow as she inched along. Her mind raced ahead thinking of the next steps she should take. Anxious brown eyes looked ahead toward the dark green of the fir trees that lay just outside the portal.

The girl frowned. The light outside was changing again. Let there be enough time, she thought wearily. The young woman's arms and shoulders felt heavy from all the exertion. Her motions had became clumsy with fatigue.

Just a minute. I can rest for just a minute. She let her upper body slide forward and stretched out, relishing the feel of her muscles as they loosened and relaxed. Blair Warner folded her arms and let her head rest upon them. 

She lay on her belly, her forehead against her forearms with the chill of the snow just scant inches from her face. The skier from Manhattan took a breath and let it out slowly. 

Blair was halfway through the entry tunnel. Another few feet and she would be back outside. Inside, behind her booted feet lay the labors of the past two hours. 

Jo had been right about the snowdrift. It was banked deep against the rock outcropping and covered the hilly terrain in some ten feet of snow. Blair had burrowed straight into the drift about five feet and then had hollowed out a chamber.

She raised her face and looked through the circular passage toward the outdoors and then rolled over onto her back. There was just room enough to crawl on your hands and knees in the narrow space that led to the larger room.

As she had worked, she tried to remember where she had read about the city that carved an entire hotel out of snow and ice. Was it Canada? No, Switzerland? she wondered.

People paid good money to sleep on beds of snow and then got up bragging about how refreshed they felt. 

Blair closed her eyes and shrugged her shoulders, trying to release some of the tension that had gathered in her body. When her eyes opened, she studied the lumpy smoothness of the snow above her. 

Snow is supposed to be a great insulator. Just ask any Eskimo, she thought. Igloos work just great. 

She reached up, her fingers just grazing the top of the tunnel. 

That's what I'm counting on. 

*************  
"Jo! Blair!" Tootie pushed the door to their suite closed and dropped her key with a clatter onto the small table in the entry hall. 

"Any sign of them?" asked Natalie as she settled down beside the telephone. She lifted the handset and dialed the front desk to check messages. Her roommate had headed off toward the older girls' bedroom.

Tootie rapped at the door and entered. The room looked precisely as it had that morning. Puzzled, she returned to find Natalie perusing the thick menu that listed all the resort's room service options.

The writer's eyes scanned the pages with interest. "Will you look at this? The breakfast foods alone take up three pages!" she announced happily. Flipping further into the booklet, her mouth dropped open with surprise. 

"Chinese food! This place is so big they have a Chinese Restaurant in the resort! Forget Peekskill. I'm staying here," she grinned, kicked off her boots and put her feet up on the ottoman.

Tootie looked around the living room. The halltree was minus two ski jackets. She checked the time. It was already past three in the afternoon. The girl's foot began tap nervously.

"Natalie ..."

By this time her roommate had drooled her way to the dessert selections. "Relax, I'll be sure and come visit on holidays," Natalie kidded.

"This is weird. This is our second trip back here today and we haven't seen any signs of Blair and Jo at all. Where do you think they are?"

Nat's eyebrows raised at the question. "If I had to bet, I'd say they're out with the guys they haven't told us about," she remarked casually. 

"You mean their ski patrolmen," said Tootie as she settled in on the couch, folding her leg back beneath her. "Kurt and Aaron."

The writer lowered the menu and narrowed her eyes, thereby delivering a withering look to her friend. 

"Okay, Lois Lane," she intoned in a slightly menacing manner. "Spill it!"

Tootie shrugged and rolled her eyes. "Well, you know me ..."

"That's right I do."

"It's not my fault that I'm a light sleeper," the younger girl said defensively.

"Or that you have better ears than a bat," quipped Natalie. "So? What's the scoop here?"

Tootie had just started to speak when a loud rap sounded at the door startling both young women. Natalie clutched her heart as her roommate hopped up to answer it.

"Probably them now," she declared. "Forgot their keys or something silly like that." 

She opened the door to find a hotel attendant with a delivery. "Oh, hello there!" Looking at the plastic wrapped garments she instantly recognized Blair's clothes.

She took the dry cleaning, tipped the attendant and took the items into Blair and Jo's room. As she hung up the clothing, she couldn't shake the feeling that something was out of place.

The Eastland senior padded softly back into the living room. "Nat, this is wrong."

Natalie waved away the comment. "Tootie, calm down. Blair will pay you back."

Tootie scowled and sat down, her irritation with her roommate now becoming evident. 

"That is NOT what I'm talking about!" she huffed. Natalie's puzzled expression at her outburst almost made her laugh.

Maybe I'm overreacting, she thought. Jo did have a pretty jam-packed schedule lined up for them. Maybe they got sidetracked or maybe they are out with those ski guys...

Tootie shook her head and smiled in apology. "Sorry about the drama. Um, where were we?"

Natalie leaned forward eagerly, moving a hand in a beckoning manner. "About the ski rangers...?" she prodded.

"Right! Okay. So here's what I heard ..."

*************  
Her instinct was to cry out. Instead, the brunette ground her teeth together. Finally, the move was complete and Blair let go. The girl from the Bronx took several short breaths. 

"See, I told you, no problem," Jo lied. She raised her head in the semi-darkness when she heard her friend moving around to her left. The light that trickled in from the entrance cast the interior in subtle blue-gray tones.

Blair cleared her throat and wiped at her nose. The socialite had to drag her friend into the snow cave. As soon as her roommate's breathing returned to normal, the blonde started scooting back down the tunnel.

"Hold it, where'rya goin'?" grunted Jo. The storm that had been brewing all afternoon was nearly upon them. 

"Got stuff to do. Be back in a minute," she replied gruffly.

"Blair?"

"No time to chat. See you in a few minutes."   
  



	10. PART TEN

Untitled Document

  
Tootie's fingers fumbled through her overnight kit. Compacts rattled as she tossed mascara and make-up brushes aside as she dug to the bottom of the bag.

The petite young woman frowned and then cast a thoughtful glance at her roommate's tote. She could see the top of Natalie's toothbrush holder peeking out above a green bottle of mouthwash. 

She lifted the floppy edge of the bag slightly with one finger and stepped closer to the duffel. From this vantage point, the Scooby Doo toothbrush carrier grinned up at her.

That Nat, she thought to herself. One minute she's arguing world politics the next she's stuffing coins in a gumball machine. 

The girl tapped the end of her own dry toothbrush on the marble countertop and looked at her wristwatch. Fifteen minutes until she was to meet Quentin in the lobby.

"Hey, Nat, mind if I borrow some toothpaste?" she called around the door to the living area.

The volume on the television decreased and then the reporter's voice boomed out in the now quiet room. "Why, are you out?"

Tootie lifted the flattened tube. It couldn't have been squished smaller if it had been run over by a steamroller. "Yeah! Completely!" she responded as she dropped the object into the waste can.

Natalie appeared at the door of the bathroom. "Bad news, kid. If you're out, then I'm out, 'cos I've been using yours!" she grinned.

"Natalie!" whined the Eastland senior, "Thanks a lot! I can't go on a date with Dorito breath!"

"Regular or ranch?"

"Um, ranch?" the dark haired girl answered hesitantly.

Natalie's head bobbed dramatically. "Oooh, it's worse than I thought," she intoned seriously. "You better not go."

Tootie made a face as she switched off the mirror lights. "Says you!" she chirped as she blustered past her friend.

The reporter laughed and plopped down on the couch. "What are you up to, Ramsey?" she asked as her friend headed toward the other bedroom.

"Nothing much, just a little visit to the Warner Health and Beauty Shop!" she quipped.

Natalie leaned back and called after her. "Blair will kill you if you go through her things!" 

"Fine, then. Jo won't mind," was the airy reply to the warning. The writer sank back into the cushions and shook her head. I think I'd risk rummaging in Blair's stuff first, she thought.

"Just how dead do you want to be, anyway?" she asked as her roommate reappeared, brush in hand, with a frothy grin plastered on her face.

"Never mind, we'll blame it on rabies," she quipped as the senior hustled back into the bathroom to finish getting ready for her date.

*************  
First, she swept a hand out to the left, gently wiggling her fingers as the limb arched away. Then, she carefully extended her other arm in the opposite direction. It seemed that if she reached as far as she could to either side, she still couldn't feel the walls. 

How big is this place anyway? Jo wondered. As her eyes became accustomed to the dim light, she looked around the chamber. 

She was laying on a slope. Above her head, a deep bench was carved out of the snow. The brunette felt up the side of the platform and grinned.

I knew I smelled evergreens. The brunette shook her head. The bench was layered with fir branches, and from the feel of things, they'd been piled up pretty thick.

That was smart. She's thought of a way to keep us up off the snow itself, surmised Jo. Good thinking. It's going to be a cold night. She shivered at the thought of the hours between dusk and dawn.

Concerned green eyes settled on the dimming light from the tunnel. Jo fidgeted and gnawed unconsciously at her lower lip. Everything made sense to her except Blair's rapid departure from the chamber.

From the look of things on the outside, the storm was only minutes away. The temperature had fallen off sharply as the clouds thickened overhead. 

This is no time to be outside, thought the brunette as she wondered what could've compelled her friend back into the elements. The wind whirred past the opening to the snow cave, its haunting groan only increasing Jo's worries. 

The skier looked down at her injured leg, mouthed a silent curse and then let her head fall backward in resignation. Not much I can do about it but sit and wait, she admitted gloomily.

She surveyed the gentle rise of the roof above her. I can be patient.

Yeah, right. 

Five more minutes, Warner. You got five more minutes and then I start looking. 

The roof above her arched upward, sloping to its highest point in the center like an overturned bowl. Within the chamber, Blair had hollowed out distinct levels. The first, where Jo was currently stretched and then a berth above.

A pale circle of sunlight shown on the floor of the chamber near her feet. As she watched, the oval shimmered, faded and then grew a little stronger. Undoubtedly, the thin channel had been hollowed out for ventilation.

The roof of the cave was at least two or three feet beneath the top of the snow. How in the world...? wondered the girl from the Bronx. Jo tucked her elbow tight against her side in the hopes that it would support her ribs and then pushed up with her opposite arm.

Gingerly, she moved into a sitting position with the ledge to her back. She released the breath she had been holding.

Good. Now, for the hard part, she thought as she raised an elbow up over the rise of the ledge.

The splint on her knee would make things even trickier. A quick look down the tunnel and then she bent her left leg, digging her heel in to find something to bear against. 

A second to mentally prepare and then, with a short cry as her abdomen flexed, she leveraged herself up and onto the shelf.

************  
She sniffled again. This was no time for her strength to be ebbing away. The coed felt as if she were running on auto-pilot. The wind swirled through the forest, kicking up light powdery snow and pushing it ahead of the approaching front. The debutante closed her eyes as the icy powder swept across her windburned cheeks. 

Blair put her back to the tree and knelt down. Her fingers picked through the debris at the base of the tree, selecting some and discarding others. Some of the moss was crusty and dry and she scooped it onto a shelf of bark.

She had thought that the surge of fear she experienced on the mountain when she had discovered Jo's crumpled body was as bad as things could get.

Boy, was I wrong. The debutante shivered and moved to scour the ground beneath other trees. 

Crouching with her back to the wind, she worked robotically at her task. The whole experience had taken on a surreal quality for the girl. 

After all, this was a woman who considered having only one outlet in the bathroom "roughing it." 

The wind rattled the limbs of the trees over her head and she looked up to see the dark boughs moving against the dimming sky. The blonde shook her head, disbelieving the circumstances that confronted her.

It was inevitable that something odd would happen on their trip, she decided. Something always did. But did it have to be this extreme? 

She sighed, her breath fogging instantly in the chilly air. This is not how I envisioned this evening at all, she thought dispiritedly.

Me and Jo marooned with a blizzard approaching. 

Manhattan and the Bronx. Cartier and Kmart. Cooped up in a tiny cubicle with no food and little comfort. 

But we'll be fine, she told herself. She steadied the collection of twigs and moss, careful to not let any drop from her hold. 

Sure, we don't always get along. Granted, she's threatened to kill me at least once a week since I've known her. 

The edge of Blair's mouth quirked up slightly. So maybe, once or twice, I deserved it, she thought to herself. Her mind drifted back to her friend's tightly shut eyes and bared teeth as they had made their way through the snow tunnel.

The blonde blinked and swallowed hard, imagining how much that move hurt her friend.

It had to be done. There was no other way, she admitted grimly. 

A somber expression settled upon her features. I never want to do that again. 

Another clump of twisted brown grass got added to the pile. A quick look at her collection told her she needed more. The older trees had limbs that extended all the way to the ground so she burrowed between the ancient boughs.

The trees had shielded some patches of ground from the snow. The girl knelt and gathered as much of the wiry turf as she could hold. Inside the protected circle of the evergreens, the remains of a trio of fallen birch trees caught her attention.

*************

"Hold yer horses, I'm coming!" shouted Natalie as she bounded over the ottoman and dashed in her socks toward the door. She skidded slightly on the hardwood floor beneath the halltree, but hastily grabbed the doorknob and steadied herself.

She gave the heavy door a yank and grinned at the waiter who stood behind the dinner cart. The very handsome fellow who looked to be about her age.

"Well, helll-ooo there!" she drawled.

Actually, if she were to be brutally honest, she was doing more than grinning. Staring was more like it. Somehow, she felt as if she knew him.

Think, Nat. 

The perky redhead smoothed the tangles at the back of her head with one hand as she ushered the fellow with the stainless steel cart into the suite. 

The young man smiled in return and lifted the warming lids from the platters. "One Feast of the Orient," he announced as the next to the last of the toppers was removed.

"Looks great," replied the reporter truthfully. "But what about ...?"

The waiter nodded and yanked away the last small cover.

"Fortune cookies!" squealed a delighted Natalie. The plate was covered with a heaping mound of the treats. She scooped up one of the small confections. "No cellophane? Made them from scratch, I bet. Man, you guys are good!" 

The waiter shrugged, his brown eyes twinkling. "We aim to please, miss." He paused, a quizzical expression settling on his features. The girl seemed to be lost in a thought of some sort.

He cleared his throat. "Is there something else?" he asked carefully.

"Hmm?" Natalie's brows arched upward. It is bad enough to stare, she thought. Worse to be caught doing it.

"Oh! Oh, no, it's just..." she stammered. The writer's hands flitted about nervously. 

She took a deep breath and silently vowed to stop looking like an idiot. "I'm sorry, it's just that something about you seems familiar to me. I get this impression that we've met before..." she chuckled. 

The young man nodded and snapped the cookie cover back into place. "Well, I believe we have," he replied.

Natalie cringed. Please let this be a good thing, she prayed. "We have?"

He pushed the cart further into the room and then turned to leave. "Oh, yeah. But then, we were never formally introduced."

Natalie scurried along beside him. "We weren't?"

The young man shook his head. "No," he replied somewhat disappointedly. His dark eyes brightened. "But we did shake hands, though," he grinned.

"We did?" This was all so cryptic. Natalie raised her hands and waved them. "Hold it, time out. Where did this happen?"

"And better yet, why can't I remember it!" she blurted.

The waiter folded his arms and considered her last question. "It could be the altitude, miss," he replied with a straight face.

Natalie shrugged off that suggestion. "Trust me, not even altitude sickness could make me forget meeting someone like ... " 

She stopped herself short. Well, so much for my pact to look less idiotic.

Meanwhile, the enigmatic waiter had reached the door to the hallway. He twisted the knob. "You're right. Maybe its just the circumstances of our first meeting," he admitted with a smirk. 

"All that ice and everything," he replied as he remembered helping the girl back up onto her wobbly skates. 

Ice? Ice. The ice rink! The girl's hands flew to her cheeks as embarrassment and realization set in.

"Ohmigawd! That was you!" she yelped.

"That was me," he smiled kindly. "At least part of the time."

Nat squinted at him. "I thought you were taller," she quipped. "Wait! I know..." The reporter plopped down to sit on the floor. She made a frame out of her hands and looked up through them.

She frowned and adjusted her hands as though that would improve her vantage point. The fellow in her view was laughing at her antics.

"Well, what do you know?" Natalie announced proudly. "It is you!" The two chuckled amiably as the waiter extended his hand and helped her back to her feet.

"Now, quick tell me your name so this will never happen again," she smiled slyly. Oh, how I do love vacations in the mountains, she thought to herself.

***************

The edge of the box cut a clean shaving from the little block. Blair repeated the process, carving thin strips of the material and assembling them into a grayish lump beside the moss.

Jo watched as her roommate sized up the dark metal clamp she held in her hand. So far that broken ski had come in pretty handy. First used as a shovel, now Blair had removed the fastener and planned to use it as a striker.

The blonde tugged off her right glove with her teeth and wrapped her fingers around the oddly shaped bit of metal. Her eyes flicked over to her friend.

"So, here goes," she said carefully. The brunette nodded. 

The first strikes did little other than jar the tinder. Blair looked up nervously.

"Take your time," encouraged her friend. "Easy does it." The socialite set her mouth in a firm line and bent even lower over her task.

She braced one hand against the birch bark she'd laid beneath the moss and swung at the magnesium strip again. As the metal collided with the material, a tiny spray of sparks showered downward.

Jo leaned forward slightly, cradling her injured side as tried to bolster her roommate's confidence. "That's the way, a little more..."

Strike. Strike. Strike. Blair exhaled sharply, pushed her bangs out of her eyes and lined up her hands.

Strike. Strike. Strike.

The last hit propelled several large specks of fire onto the shavings which ignited with a poof. Blair scooted backward and flattened herself to the ground to get closer to the glowing tangle, gently blowing on the trace of orange light.

"Yeah!" exclaimed Jo, as she pumped a fist upward in celebration. She was so excited that she barely felt the twinge in her side.

As the magnesium sizzled, Blair nudged the moss into the heat. It blazed up instantly. She pushed more fuel into the flame, nurturing it along and then cautiously added a few twigs. 

The birch popped and crackled as the fire grew. Within mere moments, it was creeping up the assembled teepee of wood. The vent that had been hollowed out over their heads provide a perfect flue and drew the smoke up and out of the chamber.

Blair pushed herself up onto her knees. Her dark eyes never left the fire. It was as if she didn't really believe that it was there. That if she looked away, even for a second, it would be gone.  
The wood sputtered, spitting out a shower of sparks and she laughed. Behind her, Jo whistled and applauded.

"Ladies and gentlemen, I give you the amazing Blair Warner!" she cheered light-heartedly before breaking into an impression of a roaring audience.

Blair shook her head and chuckled at her friend's antics. Never one to miss a cue, she raised her arms and mimed a graceful bow, tucking her head humbly.

Jo was still clapping when Blair sat down beside her. The brunette nodded approvingly.

"You did good," she smiled. She could already tell a difference as the warmth began to rise to the sleeping berths.

Blair cuffed her friend on the shoulder. "I don't suppose you know any campfire stories?" she asked.

A slim dark brow arched as her roommate repositioned her splinted leg. "Are you kidding? The only things that got set on fire in my neighborhood were abandoned cars," she joked.

***************  
The candles added to the charm of the establishment. They flickered in a picturesque manner and illuminated vibrant frescos on the walls. The Pelagian was the local favorite for fantastic Italian food and Quentin was proud to share it with his charming dinner date.

"I know what you mean, " he agreed as the waitress sat their entrees down on the table before them. "Sometimes you can feel almost invisible."

The Eastland senior smiled sweetly at the young woman who quietly removed their salad plates. 

"Exactly! Believe me, our house is full of some pretty intense personalities," she grinned. "There have been times when I was sure I could vanish and it would take everyone three full days to notice!"

Tootie frowned as she realized how that might sound. "Not that they don't care about me -- they do. They're like family. A loud and boisterous family and I just happen to be the youngest," she shrugged. "Its easy to get lost in the shuffle."

Quentin Jamison nodded. "Try being the middle kid sometime," he replied. He placed his hands apart on the tablecloth and then drew them together as he spoke.

"Not the youngest, not the oldest, just ... there. Everything you try has been done before by your older brothers or ... is bring done cuter by your little sister," he shuddered. "You just can't win!"

The senior gave her pasta a twirl, loading her fork as she listened. "Here's one for you," she replied. 

"My roommates are some seriously creative people. They've pulled some outrageous stuff over the years -- got away with some, got in trouble for the rest," she chuckled.

"By the time I was old enough to misbehave, Mrs. Garrett had heard it all before," she explained wistfully. "It's hard to break new ground when you have Jo, Blair and Natalie to follow."

She chewed thoughtfully for a moment. "I swear, sometimes I'd catch Mrs. Garrett recycling lectures! Like she'd try 'em out on the older girls and then file them away until Nat and I would need them," she laughed.

Her date nodded. "Tell me about it! I don't think there's one single excuse left that my brothers haven't already tried and failed with! My parents are prepared for anything that comes out of my mouth!"

"So what do you do?"

"What else can I do but keep them off balance," he replied. "I've found the perfect way, too."

"What's that?" Tootie inquired.

"Get good grades. Help old ladies across the street, stuff like that, " he smiled as he transferred his knife to his left hand. "It keeps them guessing. When I've perfected my boy scout persona, then I'll get a motorcycle and a tattoo," he joked as he lowered his voice, trying to add a sinister element to his story.

The girl's dark brows raised at this last bit of information. She leaned forward slightly. "I see, so is that how it works? First the motorcycle -- then the tattoo?" 

Quentin took a long drink from his water glass. She's setting me up for something, he thought and he didn't mind at all.

They were having a terrific time. He knew the minute he'd seen her at the bookstore that they would have no trouble communicating. She was so bright and open and funny and... um, where was I? he wondered.

Dorothy Ramsey chuckled when she saw he'd become so quiet. "Well, have you picked one out yet?" she asked in purr.

He swallowed and swirled the ice around in the goblet buying time before speaking. "The motorcycle?" he asked carefully.

"No, Quint, the tattoo," she smiled mischievously.

***************

The blonde hissed and drew back her hand, shaking it as she chewed on her lower lip. 

"Blair, what's wrong?"

"Hmmm?" the socialite replied as though she didn't hear. She nudged the chunk of timber closer to the center of the fire with her boot.

Super. Nice going, the blonde skier thought to herself as the stinging sensation started to fade. It was stupid of her to handle the wood without covering her hands. Her hands were finally warm and she couldn't bear the thought of sliding them back in the cold, damp gloves.

She looked up to see her roommate's gaze firmly fixed on her awaiting an answer. Blair flexed her palm and then held it up. "Splinter," she announced in a detached manner. 

Jo hitched up on an elbow. "Is it bad?"

The debutante shook her head. "Nah, it just raked my hand, that's all."

The brunette scooted to a sitting position. She waved her roommate closer. "Lemme see..." 

Blair let her hands drop to her sides. "Honestly, Jo, I'm fine," she hedged.

Jo raised a finger and ticked it back and forth, a signal for Blair to drop the pretense. "Now listen here," she threatened in a low voice. "This place ain't big enough for two rotten patients."

The blonde chuckled at the girl's attempt at a Texas drawl, crawled over and extended her hand for inspection.

"All right, already! Next you'll want me out of town before sundown," she joked as Jo gently spread her fingers apart.

The brunette scrutinized her hand. "How did this happen?"

Blair shrugged. "I was careless. Clumsy, really ..."

Jo shook her head and turned her roommate's hand over. The blonde's palm was distended and blistered. Each finger looked raw and had recent nicks and gouges circling the knuckles.

The brunette scowled at the injuries to her friend's hands. She thought how particularly strange the contrast was to the socialite's neat manicure.

Oh, geez. Joanna Marie, you are an idiot. She let her dark head hang shamefully as something clicked into place. What did you think, anyway? That all this pine just fell out of trees for the asking?

Jo reached for Blair's left hand, her eyes clouding with concern as she realized it was as battered as the first. She cleared her throat.

"How do they feel?"

"A little stiff, but mostly okay," said Blair as she fluttered her fingers to make her point. "I looped a stick through the ends of the saw for a while, but I was afraid I'd break the strands, so I went back to the old fashioned way."

The blonde stuffed her hands into her jacket pockets. "Not something I'd care to do everyday," she admitted with a smirk. 

"Yeah," agreed Jo softly. "Yeah, I bet." 

"So?" the socialite prodded.

Jo's brows furrowed. "So, what?" she asked. 

Blair held up her palm again. "Did I pass inspection?"

The girl from the Bronx nodded. "I'd say you've come through with flying colors."

The debutante blinked in surprise. "Yeah?" She settled back on her heels and made a decision.

"Good. Now, it's your turn," Blair announced. 

"Huh?" Jo's head cocked slightly to the side. No way. She wouldn't dare.

"How about we have a look at that knee ..."  



	11. PART ELEVEN

The snow poured down upon the mountain. The wind thrashed the forest, whipping the overloaded boughs into unnatural bends. Many sheared off at the trunk of the tree and fell, dropping with muted crashes into the growing drifts. 

Within minutes, every trace of the greenery was obliterated. Sound was swallowed up by the winds. Even time itself seemed to move at a slower pace. 

And the night stretched on. 

The skier fidgeted and wondered how they wound up on this subject. 

"That was... " Jo's voice trailed off as she watched the colors dance at the base of the fire. She poked at the edge of the glowing coals with a stick. A long moment passed as Blair waited for her friend to summon up the words to complete her thought. 

The brunette's jaw tightened. Her eyes darted over to her roommate briefly and then back to the fire. Another sharp stab at the embers. 

"It was tough," she finished, unable to say more. 

The socialite nodded sympathetically. She was sitting cross legged on the opposite side of the firepit. Jo stretched as best she could, her muscles weary of limited positions and the cold ground. Keeping her knee elevated was especially tedious. 

She slid her hands into her pockets. "That was the first time anyone I knew, really knew and counted as a friend, had died," she said. The brunette's serious gaze fell on her roommate. 

"I was sixteen. Thought I had it all covered. Watch me take this like an adult," she declared derisively. A hand left her pocket to brush the corner of her eye. She made the motion quickly as though it embarrassed her. 

"I didn't know anything," she remembered sadly. She took as deep a breath as her injuries would allow. "Nothing prepares you to bury a friend." 

"It's strange, isn't it?" said Blair softly. "When you're small, you think grown-ups can fix anything. They've got all the answers." 

She held her hands out toward the warmth of the fire. "Then you get older and find out that some things ... " she paused, "... don't have answers at all." 

Jo rubbed her eyes and sighed. "Yeah. I just hate that I treated her so rotten."   
The brunette grew quiet, feeling the sting of the memory even now, years after the English teacher's death. "She didn't deserve that. She couldn't help it," she said softly. 

Blair nodded as she sat back and raised one knee. The blonde wrapped her arms loosely around her pantleg. "You were hurt and angry," she offered. 

Her friend cocked her head to the side and jabbed at the snow with one hand. "Doesn't excuse it," she said regretfully. 

The socialite raised her chin. "You're right. And maybe it wasn't the best way to deal with Gayle's illness -- but it was your way -- and I think she understood that." Jo kept her head down, her bare fingers doodling designs in the snow as she listened. 

"Besides, you got past all that," asserted the socialite. 

The girl from the Bronx looked up as she rubbed the tips of her now numb fingers together. "Because she let me off the hook! If the situations had been reversed, I don't think I would've forgiven me," she wondered with a shudder. 

Blair lowered her eyes, trying to give her roommate some space. The public Jo Polniaczek never flinched. The popular Langley Regent with all the friends, responsibilities and goals was a guarded and intensely private person. 

She might show an occasional flash of temper but never a trace of weakness. No matter what came her way, she rolled with it and kept her emotions to herself. 

That was the way the world saw her. It was how she wished to be seen. It worked, too. Even Natalie and Tootie had learned to just leave her alone. Jo had to work through things on her own and in her own time. 

That was working pretty well -- right up until the time she met Blair Warner. 

The blonde hugged her knee a little tighter and considered her friend's words. "Yes, you would've," she countered as she hazarded a quick glance upward. "You would have done the exact same thing." 

Doubt showed briefly in Jo's green eyes only to be replaced with gratitude. She nodded once. "Yeah, maybe," she admitted. 

Jo was silent for a moment. "I went to the funeral," she added after the long pause. 

"I remember," said Blair quietly. "You took a cab from the Eastland gates." 

The brunette squinted at her friend. "That's right," she replied cautiously. Something tugged at the edges of her memory of that day. Something that had to do with Blair. 

Jo looked down for an instant and gathered her thoughts. "I remember coming in way after curfew. Walked straight into Mrs. G," she recalled with a shake of her head. 

"Then, just when Mrs. Garrett got ready to rip into me, you showed up with your arms full of books," she smiled. Blair grimaced, rubbed at her eyes and tried not to laugh. 

Jo snickered at the recollection. "You started yelling about me running off and leaving you to carry them all." The injured skier pantomimed Blair's frantic actions. 

"I just stood with my mouth open while you told Mrs. G some story about the library in town and your car and how completely irresponsible I was," she recounted. 

"Well, it seemed like the thing to do at the time," grinned the debutante. Blair's hand moved unconsciously, raking through her hair and moving it away from her face. 

"And it worked like a charm." Jo leaned back and wrapped her arms about her middle. "Instead of busting me over curfew, Mrs. G lectured us on getting along and let us off with a warning." 

The blonde tossed another limb onto the fire, causing it to sputter and throw a cascade of sparks into the air. "Just chalk it up to another one of my ..." 

"... brilliant ideas!" Jo finished the phrase with a smirk. "Ha! Beat you to it," she gloated. "I've always wanted to do that!" 

Blair cast her eyes heavenward and reseated herself. 

**********   
"Hey," said a groggy Natalie as she rubbed her eyes and looked at her watch. "You're home early." The reporter folded up the book that had been open in her lap. She had been dozing over Dylan's lyrics for some twenty minutes now. 

Her roommate and best friend perched lightly on the opposite arm of the overstuffed sofa. "You can read a vampire book and then just fall asleep?" she asked in amazement. 

Nat yawned and turned the book over to show its cover. "Heck, no!" she responded with a chuckle. "I'm not even cracking the other one open till daylight!" 

"Good plan." Tootie nodded and stood up to stretch, letting her shoulderbag drop down to touch the floor. 

"So, how was dinner?" 

The senior smiled broadly and tugged off her silver earrings. "Really, really nice." 

Her friend scowled and drew her feet up to sit cross-legged on the couch. "Nice? Tootie, an afternoon nap is nice. A birthday card from your Aunt Agatha is nice -- I want details," she declared with authority. 

Tootie rolled her dark eyes and turned to head into their bedroom. She heard Natalie issue another threat, this one laced with colorful consequences, if she didn't hurry back and fill her in. 

The girl walked into the center of the living room and paused. The suite had matching bedrooms placed opposite one another off the main living area. The doorway to their room was open with warm lights on within. 

She rattled the jewelry in her hand and considered the dark passage into the older girls' room. Intrigued, she glanced at the halltree, expecting to see the thin wooden rack overburden with ski clothes. 

Instead, two hooks were empty as were the slots for the other pairs of ski boots. 

Okay, she thought calmly. Let's not panic. Maybe they've hung their gear up in the bathroom and turned in early. 

Tootie wandered into her college friends' room and snapped on the light. What she wanted was for Jo to sit up in her bed and cuss her for waking them up. Really, she hoped that Blair would heave a pillow at her to get her to leave. 

Those things didn't happen. The petite senior sighed and reminded herself that her friends were adults. They're okay, she decided. She reached for the lightswitch and said a little prayer that it was true. 

*******   
Why do they do it? he wondered. Drinking and driving was stupid enough but when you add the ice and snow to the mix -- forget about it. 

The severity of the snowstorm had caught the mountain's public safety divisions by surprise and the agencies were struggling to meet the rush of calls due to the weather. It was going to be a long night for everyone. 

Kurt was rapidly losing his patience. The young patrolman took a breath and looked toward the grill of the Jaguar. The dark green vehicle was buried up to the windshield in the snowdrift. Next, his gaze flickered over to his partner who was trying to reason with the driver. 

Silhouetted in the light of the streetlamps as snowflakes fluttered about, Aaron was appealing to the driver's common sense. Good luck with that, buddy, Kurt thought dispiritedly as he looked up at the fellow who stood on the roof of the luxury car. 

The man laughed and waved to his companion. "Hey, sugar! You doing all right, down there?" 

The girl standing next to the other paramedic waved in reply. Actually, the wave was about all she could manage as her motor skills reflected the amount of alcohol she had consumed. "I'm good! I'm great!" she chirped even as she wobbled on her feet. Ranger Chambers slipped a hand under her elbow to steady her. 

Well, I'm glad she's having fun, thought Kurt sarcastically. The mountain is being hammered by one of the worst storms in memory and here we are -- baby-sitting a couple of drunks. 

"How's it coming over there, Aaron?" he asked as his jaw tightened up with anger. 

His friend scowled at him and then looked up with a smile on his face. "Just super. Mr. Stanton? Listen, you've got a cut over your eye that I need to have a look at, so why don't you come on down so we can take care of that?" 

The paramedic waved the bright yellow box in one hand as he gestured toward the ground with the other. The driver stomped his feet indignantly, each thud pummeling dents into the top of the car. 

The inebriated man pointed at the mound of snow that surrounded his vehicle. "Not until you arrest that snowdrift!" he giggled and made a face at his companion who hopped up and down with glee at his joke. 

"The silly thing just came out of nowhere!" he announced proudly as he flailed his arms about. 

The weather was worsening by the moment as the wind propelled the large flakes in a whirl around them. The girl watched the dancing bits of white, silhouetted against the dark of the night by the streetlamps. 

They moved around and around and around and ... 

Kurt felt a tug on the sleeve of his jacket. "I don't feel so well, Officer..." she managed to gasp before she retched and threw up all over Kurt's boots. The paramedic scowled and drew an icy breath through his mouth. 

After he helped the young woman over to their Broncho, he appeared at his partner's side. He pointed at the idiot above them who was warbling an old holiday tune at the top of his lungs. 

" ... the world is your snowball just for a song, so get out and roll it along!" The drunk waved his hands to the musical interlude he heard in his head. Directing an unseen orchestra. 

"That's it!" Kurt growled. He put a hand on the edge of the car's roof. "He's got fifteen seconds to get down or I'm going after him." 

The drunk revolved and mimicked a soft-shoe patter in the center of the roof. "... Da, dee dee dat dat! Da dee dee dum! It's a yum yummy world made for sweethearts, take a walk with your fav-o-rite gii-rrrll!" sang the man atop the XJ6. 

Ranger Baker eyes lit up as an idea occurred to him. "Mr. Stanton? My partner tells me that he has finished Marandizing the perpetrator but we can't process the paperwork until you climb down and sign the official complaint." 

" ... it's a sugar date, what if Spring is late, in ... wha? um, what? Well, I'd be happy to! Why didn't you just say so?" answered the man who climbed down over the slippery rear window. 

"There you go, careful now," said Aaron as he helped the drunk back down to earth. When the man's expensive boots finally touched the snow, Baker nodded sharply at his partner who responded with a quick thumbs-up signal. 

Both young men were relieved when a flash of blue lights glinted off the snow slicked roadway announcing the police had finally arrived on the scene. 

*******   
Her side still ached and she was conscious of a heaviness settling in her chest. Well, falling down a mountain will do that to you, she thought sardonically. Jo smiled, cleared her throat and took a sip of water. 

Blair lay on her back with her arms folded over her face. "That was not one of my finer moments," she groaned. "That has got to be in the top five stupid things I've ever done." 

The brunette tapped her chin with a finger as if in thought. "Well, actually ..." she began. 

The blonde sat upright instantly, with one hand raised in warning. "Careful, Jo," she deadpanned. "It is unwise to tick off your fire builder." 

"Will you chill out?" Jo replied, she stifled a cough behind a fist. 

"If you'll pardon the expression," the brunette added with a chuckle when she saw her roommate's scowl at her choice of words. "That wasn't what I was going to say at all." 

"Really?" Blair inquired carefully. 

"Really." 

"Oh, okay." The socialite tried to appear disinterested. She failed miserably. After all, the conversation was about her favorite subject. Herself. "You were saying?" the blonde entreated. 

"Before I was so rudely interrupted ..." Jo said with mock irritation, "I was going to tell you that everyone has a Chad or two in their past." 

Blair's coppery brows raised in surprise. 

Jo folded her arms defiantly. "Yes, me included, but remember -- we aren't talking about me," she growled. 

"Gotcha," the socialite nodded briskly. "Point taken." 

"Good." The brunette took a breath. "It's like, we've got to make some rotten choices and learn some not so pleasant lessons so we'll recognize the really good guys when they come along." 

Blair frowned, remembering the doomed relationship. "I honestly thought he was the one, you know, 'The One,'" she said, notching her fingers in the air to indicate the emphasis on the term. 

She leaned forward and rested her chin in her hand. "Everything you guys tried to tell me? I didn't see any of it. None. A complete case of tunnel vision. It was like I saw him through a lens that filtered out all his imperfections." 

Jo had no trouble recalling the suitor that turned her roommate into a insecure, browbeaten shadow of her self. Tootie had cried, Natalie had yelled, Mrs. Garrett had meddled and still the headstrong sixteen-year-old held on to the arrogant young man. 

Then she and Blair sat up all night. Demolished a platter of leftover roast beef and talked. 

And talked. 

And when the morning came things looked better than they had the night before. The young woman from the Bronx hoped that just this once, history would repeat itself.   
  
  



	12. PART TWELVE

  
The young man slapped his cheeks with the palms of his hands. Thumping his jaws briskly, he held himself up tall and drew in a great deep breath.   
He swung his arms to and fro while he jumped in place. 

I'm awake! I'm awake! He hoped the activity would not only make him feel more alert but would help him loosen up. He wanted to feel better about his decision to bury the report. Unfortunately, any act is only as good as its player. 

Chad's lanky form began to slow in its movements, the arm swinging was nearly finished. Then, it stopped. He yawned vigorously and plodded dispiritedly toward the heavy equipment. 

Thank goodness they keep these things inside, he thought as he fired up the snowcat's engine. Dials and gauges flickered to life as the big machine rattled and settled into a deep idle. 

He kicked at the chain that he had tossed in the floorboard, knocking it clear of his boots. He had already loaded the rest of the tools and a couple of flashlights into the snowcat. 

Chad gripped the steering wheel and flicked on the overhead lights. The beams sliced through the dark building and into the snowstorm beyond. At the moment, the flakes were silver dollar sized and flying furiously. 

The digital numerals beside the radio shown steadily in a serene aqua glow. Three-freakin'-thirty in the morning, he groused to himself as he pushed in the clutch. Did it have to come the worst storm of the season on the one night he needed to make quickie repairs to the Viper? 

***************** 

Outside, the wind lapped at the frozen surface of the snow. Occasionally, a gust would draw over the vent in the top of the shelter in such a way that the hollow opening would groan. 

Green eyes stared up at the dimly illuminated roof of the snow cave as the storm howled outside. Then there were the growls inside the chamber. 

Jo wrapped a hand over her complaining stomach and frowned. "I wish this thing would shut up, " she grumbled. It isn't like I need reminding that I'm hungry. 

She raised her head and peered across the fire. "Hey, Warner? You doing okay over there?" 

"Just fine," Blair lied. After hours of talk, they had fallen into a companionable silence. 

"That's nice," commented her dark haired roommate with a smile. Then the girl's face took on a much more serious expression. "Can that phony stuff, would ya? You want to try that again?" 

The blonde took a deep breath and rolled over onto her side. The new position had her facing her friend. Jo could tell from slant of her roommate's brows that she was deciding just how honest she should make her reply. 

"I'm starving, I stink and I'm too tired to sleep," she admitted. 

Now, that I can believe, thought the brunette. "You need to get some rest -- if you can," she replied. "I can keep an eye on the fire." 

Blair frowned. "I know, but what if ..." 

"Then I'll wake you up." 

"But ..." the socialite began. 

"Sleep. End of discussion," Jo directed forcefully. 

The blonde reluctantly climbed up onto the sleeping ledge. "Bully," she muttered with a sly smirk. 

"Whiner," replied Jo without missing a beat. 

The socialite curled up on her side next to her roommate. She tucked her arm under her head and settled down amongst the evergreen boughs. 

Jo waited until her friend's breathing had evened out, signaling that she had finally given in to her exhaustion. 

"G'night, Blair," she said softly. 

************ 

Chad pressed down and slid the gearshift into reverse. The gears creaked and the vehicle rocked as the tracks began digging in the opposite direction. The floodlights mounted on top of the snowcat illuminated a solid wall of white. 

A thin prickle of fear climbed the teenager's spine. With snowfall as heavy at this, there's no way I can tell where the roadway lies, he thought. 

The access road to the summit followed a circuitous passage that enabled the maintenance crews access without ruining the look or lay of the slope. The route was so hazardous in spots that it was only recommended for use by the big snowcats. Their bulldozer-like metal tracks bit in and allowed the vehicles to climb in places that seemed impossible. 

The boy shoved the clutch to the floorboard and fastened his hand on the gearshift. Okay, then, he swallowed and maneuvered the device back into forward. The machine inched along. 

Left is bad. Left is bad. He steered right, following the sound of the trees scratching the right-hand side of the cab to tell him how close he was to the mountain. 

The mountain side of the passage was the only way to go because beyond the opposite side of the road was only air. 

****************   
The occupants of the snow cave stirred little as the hours crept past. Jo's injuries prevented much movement for the brunette while her roommate was feeling the effects of her labors of the past two days. 

It wasn't that Blair was out of shape. The girl stayed remarkably fit for one whose idea of heavy lifting was to raise a charge card at least five times a week. 

However, these conditions were way past the range of most people's experience. The cold, the lack of food and the constant fear of what might lay ahead was draining and wearisome. 

The blonde skier had ventured out every half hour or so to check the conditions. She wasn't sure what was more difficult -- discovering that the gray skies hadn't changed or making the report to her roommate. 

After the last report of bad news, Blair had curled up to get a bit of rest. 

The girl from the Bronx was a natural born skeptic. Her childhood had been so rough and tumble that she had learned to brace for the worst even under the best circumstances. In her thinking, there was always a catch. 

While her friend dozed fitfully on the floor of the shelter, Jo Polniaczek thought back over the past few weeks. Things had been going rather well for the Langley junior. 

She frowned. Think you're happy, do you? Just you wait, she thought in a decisively fatalistic tone. Never, ever could she have foreseen the circumstances they were facing now. 

She cast her eyes heavenward and took a breath. What had Blair said? Enough birch for one more night. Jo looked at the stockpile that her roommate had accumulated in the entryway. 

It had been over three hours work for the blonde. It was hard to believe that the scruffy, sunburned person napping on the floor beneath her was one of Manhattan's golden girls. 

The socialite had drawn her hair back into a loose ponytail that was tied with a scrap of cord. She slept on her back with her hands gathered into the ski jacket that she had pulled over her chest and shoulders. 

As if on cue, the debutante scowled in her sleep and rolled onto her side, startling her roommate. Jo watched as the girl tried to find a comfortable position amid the fir branches. 

Another turn, this time with a forceful kick and a sound. Not quite words, really, more like a whimper. 

Immediately, the brunette realized her friend was fighting more than the frozen earth. She hesitated an instant and then rolled over onto her stomach.   
Jo reached down off the sleeping ledge and gently rested her hand against her friend's back. 

"Just a dream, Blair. It can't hurt you." 

"Let it go. That's the way, that's it," coaxed Jo as the girl stopped struggling and relaxed. Maybe she'd woken up or maybe she had just needed some reassurance, Jo didn't really care. 

She leaned down and tugged the parka back over her roommate. What was important was that her friend was resting peacefully. 

The brunette pushed herself back onto her evergreen pallet and rolled painfully back to a sitting position. The fire flickered orange against the blackened coals of the firepit. A forceful wind drew across the entry to the snow cave with a chilling howl. 

Jo Polniaczek pushed her dark bangs away from her eyes. "How did we end up here?" she whispered to her sleeping friend. 

************* 

The snowcat began vibrating, a heavy clacking sound that unnerved its driver. One set of tracks was icing up, the temperature and deep snow was caking to the metal and letting the heavy metal tread slip. 

Chad turned as far to the right as he dared, moving the equipment out of the deeper drifts that lay close to the mountain. The teenager raised his gloved hand and wiped at the windshield. 

He frowned as it had no effect. The vehicle's heater was barely able to keep the cab warm. What it was doing a good job of was fogging up the windows. 

The boy pushed his toboggan further back on his head and blew out a breath. The band that ran along the bottom of the hat was soaked with perspiration. His eyes drifted toward the clock in the dashboard. 

Two hours! Have I been at this for two hours, already? He shook his head and tried wriggle some of the tension out of his shoulders. 

The young public safety officer winced as a screeching sound traveled the length of the snowcat. A series of limbs scraped the machine, taking a good amount of snow and paint with it. 

This is ... intense, he thought as the shuddering subsided. The young man's thoughts turned to the explanation he would have to offer if he didn't get the machine back to the garage before it was missed. 

Chad down shifted and navigated the switchback, the turn that signaled the approach of the summit and the top of the ski trails. Now he would need to hug the left side of the route. 

The machine chugged clumsily rattling every tool on board. He squinted through the frosty windshield at the varying degrees of white before him. 

There was deep white, white with scraggly brush and gray white. Got to go with the scraggly brush. 

Good thing I've got that report about the safety markers being gone, he mused. That ought to justify my intentions. He grinned to himself. Might even qualify as going 'above and beyond the call of duty' he thought smugly. 

He drummed on the steering wheel with his fingers. That is of course, as long as no one realized I was the one who buried the markers in the first place. 

Not a problem, chief. No harm, no foul. It isn't like anyone's going to get hurt. 

The snowcat shivered again, more ice buildup making it hard for the tracks to dig in and find traction. The heavy machine began a slow slide to the left, it's rear end swinging wildly out of control. The teenager spun the wheel hard to the right trying to bring it back around. 

Instead the spin intensified. The machine lurched up, the right side grinding up on rocks and pitching the left side down low. Chad slid against the door as gravity worked its magic. 

The cab tilted lower and the latch opened, leaving the teenager hanging by his grip on the steering wheel, feet churning in mid-air off the side of the Viper. 

And the snow kept falling. 

*****   
  



	13. PART THIRTEEN

Chad's boots banged painfully along the tracks of the snowcat as he struggled to get a foothold. His limber frame swung to and fro as the machine ground to a halt at a precarious angle. 

The engine died and the tracks stopped moving. 

"Holy shi...! uh, woah!" he grunted as he finally got his feet planted and was able to turn loose of the death grip he had fastened on the wheel. The lights on the vehicle now pointed off into snowy space. 

Though his heart was nearly jumping out of his chest, he realized the need to focus and access his situation. He climbed back over the seat and found one of the flashlights that had tumbled forward and rested against the clutch pedal. 

Flicking it on, he scrambled back out of the snowcat and surveyed the damage. While the machine looked to be okay, it was perched dangerously close to what looked like the edge of the slope. 

The public safety officer made his way around the big machine two more times, trying to find a way to free it. He leaned against one of the huge tracks as it hung suspended in the air. 

A burst of frigid wind slid inside his parka as the ever increasing flakes twirled in the glow of the light. Dammit! 

The boy rubbed his numb face in frustration. He could already feel the butt-tearing that would come for something like this. Unauthorized use of city property, disregard for safety protocols ... not to mention the fact that a team and another cat would be needed to get him out of this jam. 

I may not have a rear-end left after Livingston gets through, he thought. Let alone a job. 

The snow that began seeping icily through his jeans above his boots brought him back to reality. His teeth chattered and he climbed back up on the equipment to stamp the snow off his feet and legs. 

One problem at a time, he decided. Right now what he needed to do was to stay warm and wait till daylight to radio for help. The eldest son of the Pinkus' climbed back into the cab and pulled the door shut behind him. 

Thank God for the heater, he smiled as he settled onto a cargo bin and braced his feet against the unnatural pitch of the seats. Rustling through his pockets he rounded up three candy bars. 

After he balanced the flashlight so it gave off just the right illumination, the teenager grabbed his thermos from the dashboard. 

"I believe it's time for breakfast, wouldn't you agree, Mr. Goodbar?" 

*********** 

A gloved hand patted at the snow that had accumulated in front of the opening and moved it aside. According to her watch, it was a little past seven. The snowfall had diminished over the past few hours finally slowing to flurries. 

One knee at a time, the blonde skier plowed her way out into the daylight. A blast of cold air hit her in the face and she shivered. Still, she couldn't wait to see the sun and the sky. 

Mostly she wanted to look up into some never-ending blue and know that the worst was behind them. The socialite pulled herself free of the crawlway and stood up, her knees just clearing the freshly drifted snow. 

Blair's dark eyes scanned the bleak mountainside. A cold gray light spilled from behind the heavy clouds indicating that the storm was in no hurry to leave the range. 

There would be no warmth from the sun today. 

She staggered through the snow, out and away from the outcropping and their shelter. At around a hundred yards away, the mountain just seemed to disappear into the dingy light. It faded from view and melted into the gray mist. 

The girl sank to her knees, the snow absorbing her weight effortlessly. She let her fists settle into the white powder and stared for long seconds at the holes that her hands had made. She imagined herself pummeling the snow, howling with the frustration she felt slamming through her. 

Instead, she pushed herself to a sitting position and threw her head back. Silently, Blair stared up at the featureless sky. 

They can't see us. Even if they knew where to look -- they would never find us. 

************* 

The telephone rang and it's electronic peal seemed like a screech to the sleeping girls. Tootie rolled over and pushed her nose further into the blankets, letting the heavy comforter billow up around her ears. 

It kept ringing. Three rings. Four. 

By the fifth ring she heard Natalie's feet hit the floor. From the heavy way her roommate walked, she was sure she wasn't happy about having to rise and find out who was calling so early. 

Her suspicions were confirmed when the senior heard the brisk way the receiver was snatched from the cradle. Uh, oh, thought the drowsy girl. Somebody's in trouble. 

"Yeah? I mean, hello?" grunted the reporter. The redhead's voice was scratchy from sleep and it made her sound even more perturbed. "Oh, okay. Thank you." 

The handset was replaced gently and then softer footsteps drummed their way back to the beds. Tootie kicked at the weight that settled at the end of her mattress. 

"I'd really like to talk to whoever decided that the telephone needed to be way the heck over there," grumbled Natalie as she rubbed her eyes. 

Tootie rumbled a muffled reply from beneath the covers. 

"Exactly! I mean, come on people! This is a resort! The three S principle is in effect: Sleep, Ski and Shop," she wailed. "Sleep, of course, comes first signifying its primary importance in the whole vacation scheme." 

Another muted exchange came from the mound of comforters. 

"Seven o'clock," answered Natalie as she stretched and stood. "That was a wake-up call, by the way. No doubt instigated by our slope-happy friend Jo." 

The wad of bedclothes moved as the person beneath them rolled over and offered a garbled comment. 

Natalie was already moving toward the door that separated the bedroom from the living area of the suite. "That's what I'd like to know, too," she responded as she strode purposefully toward the sleeping quarters of the older girls. 

She banged the heel of her hand against the doorframe as she entered their rooms, thumping as noisily as she could. 

"Hey, Jo! Since when are you too good to answer your own wake-up calls? You got a phone in there so why didn't you just ..." 

Dorothy Ramsey pulled the top edge of the blanket away from her face and drew in a cool breath. Boy, were they in for it now. One thing about Nat, she hated having her sleep disturbed. 

Any second now, the yelling will start, she decided as she raised her arms and stretched. 

That's when she heard her roommate's voice and it wasn't angry anymore. It sounded -- frightened. 

"TOOTIE!" 

*********** 

The automatic doors slid open with a whispering sound and the bracing wind caught the Eastland senior by surprise. She had barely taken four steps toward the sidewalk when her teeth began to chatter. 

She hadn't realized just how cold it was until then. The wind whistled through the bare branches of the small trees at the entrance of the lodge, each slender tip decorated with strands of tiny white lights. 

Yesterday, Tootie had thought the trees beautiful. Today, they struck her as oddly stark and somewhat sinister. The sticky snow clung to the dark bark highlighting each curl of the limbs. 

She remembered the illustrations in a children's book she read once about a Snow Queen. The Queen was rendered in harsh tones of blues and blacks and sought to harden children's hearts. To freeze the love out of them and make them empty. 

Another gust and the girl turned her back to the wind. It seemed to wash straight through her parka. Tootie shuddered and tucked her chin down within the collar of her coat. 

The weatherman said that the temperature was up several degrees from last night's lows, she thought. What must it have felt like then? she wondered. 

She considered going back inside for a moment and then remembered what had driven her outdoors in the first place. The need to get away from Natalie and her doomsday scenarios. 

Tootie's dark eyes looked up the street, hoping to see Quentin's Blazer on its way to the lodge. 

Poor Nat, she thought. Her roommate once told them that she could panic better than anyone. The writer's vivid imagination was a liability in crises -- of that much they were all certain. 

The imaginative redhead could spin out enough trauma and guilt-drenched possibilities to paralyze even the most steadfast optimist. Tootie shook her head remembering a time when even Mrs. Garrett had reached her limit of patient understanding. 

As she recalled, a tiny mouse had once made its home in Over Our Heads storeroom. That four-footed visitor set Natalie off on a tirade that touched upon everything from bubonic plague to rabies to nibbled on wiring and back again. 

Then came the instant that Mrs. Garrett had simply heard enough. 

By the time the tiny spitfire from Appleton had finished her sermon, Jo and Blair were applauding and the drama student had a case of the giggles. Even Natalie had to laugh when Mrs. Garrett had finished outlining just how far overboard she had become. 

Tootie sighed and her breath frosted in the air. I wish Mrs. Garrett were here.   
The girl turned about and walked slowly back toward the front door of the lodge. 

The traffic was nearly non-existent. There were a few hardy souls taking walks to the shopping district but most folk had taken the advice of the public safety offices and holed up to wait for a break in the weather. 

Snowflakes settled on the senior's bangs and she raised her face to see the dark foreboding clouds that circled the mountains. She and Nat had chosen to wait until they knew for sure that their friends were missing before they made any calls to New York. 

Tootie scowled and rubbed a mitten over her face at the thought of those phone calls. If this was the sort of stuff she had to look forward in becoming and adult -- they could just keep it, she decided. 

Her dark eyes welled up remembering another time she felt lost. She could still recall the dress she wore and where she stood in the bedroom she shared with her friends. 

She knew it was time to leave for the service, but her feet just wouldn't move. In less than an hour her best friend would bury her father and, as much as Tootie felt for Natalie, she was afraid of doing or saying the wrong thing. 

It was about that time that Jo had appeared at her side. As the brunette reassured the teenager that she would know what to do when the time came, Blair stepped in and laid a gentle hand on the girl's shoulder. 

The blonde had gathered Tootie's coat as well as her own. Her words echoed Jo's as she encouraged the frightened girl to trust her heart to say what was right. 

As the memory flowed back to her, she realized that's how it always was for them. The older girls took the lead and shepherded the younger ones through behind them. 

Sometimes it was by example, sometimes just a word or two offered in passing. Her eyes scanned the hazy outline of the mountain range that dwarfed the resort. 

The senior rubbed her chilly hands together. Sure could use a little guidance right about now, guys, she thought just as Quentin's dark green vehicle rolled into view. 

********** 

Natalie spooned the warm liquid over the confections and watched them bob back to the surface. She pushed them down into the cocoa and they floated around the utensil's bowl and they wobbled right back to where they had been. 

As interesting as the marshmallows were, her mind was on other things.   
She looked up from the cup and hastily shoved her auburn bangs out of her eyes. 

What was taking so long? she wondered. Tootie had called her friend Quentin who had offered to pick the girls up and get them to the public safety office. 

His advice had been to sit tight until he could get to the lodge and then he'd take them to the mountain's public safety offices. This would accomplish two things. 

First, they could locate the young men, the ski rangers, that the girls had met and rule out any possibilities that they were with them. Second, and Natalie didn't even want to consider that option. But there it was -- if they had to, they could get an investigation started. 

The reporter crossed her ankles beneath the cafe table and looked toward the lobby of the resort. The front desk was situated within a cavernous entry built of massive beams and detailed woodwork. Huge carved stairways led in three directions from the lobby. 

The tall ceilings and beams led an almost cathedral-like quality to the structure. Windows were everywhere, letting the grandeur of the mountains and the sunlight spill in. 

Behind the central staircase the designers had included a small eatery, the cafe where Natalie waited. It gave guests a place to meet and make plans for their day before heading off to the mountain's outdoor opportunities. Yesterday, Nat had grabbed a bagel there in route to the slopes. 

The writer shivered and rubbed her hands along her upper arms. It seemed colder to her. Almost like the sun itself was a few degrees cooler -- like it had lost part of its shine. 

A waiter strode briskly past her to place breakfast in front of a cheery foursome. As the couples oohed and ahhed over their elegantly prepared omelets, the New Yorker's eyes drifted sullenly back to her cup. 

This morning, food was the last thing on her mind. In fact, she had done little to the cup of cocoa that Tootie had given her more than swirl it around. 

Ordinarily, this was just the sort of opportunity that Natalie relished. As a writer, she was constantly trying to keep her eyes and ears open to life around her. She thought of it as her "fly-on-the-wall" time. 

Alone in a restaurant with a cup of coffee and her notebook, she could soak up the atmosphere and people watch. Her imaginative mind would spin out stories, backgrounds and futures for the patrons around her. 

The elderly couple who squeezed into the same side of the booth, their coats tossed haphazardly onto the other seat as though they couldn't stand for the tabletop to separate them. 

The waitress whose son stopped in on his way home after school each day. The ten-year-old would grimace each time his mom ruffled his hair and end their conversations with the same two words as he dashed out the door. "Later, Ma!" 

The men with their briefcases and newspapers. The younger gentlemen, eager for the adventure of the day and its trades. The older, grim and resolute, having spent more time on Wall Street than their more youthful contemporaries had been alive. 

And yet, they all jostled for positions within their companies. Which were the mentors? Who were the upstarts? Who would reap the benefits of the next financial coup? 

These were the sort of hypothetical questions that would swirl in the redhead's imagination, begging to be answered in an essay or short story. Natalie took a sip of the chocolate, not really tasting it at all, more out of a need to do something with her hands. 

She sat the warm cup aside and folded her hands on the table, her eyes darting once again to her wristwatch. Her words to her roommate came back to haunt her now. 

Her intuitive roommate had sensed that something wasn't right the previous afternoon. To young Ramsey, the older girls would've checked in if anything was going to detain them. 

But did I listen? No, she remembered guiltily. Being older and wiser, I figured they were fine. Probably even having more fun than we were so I shrugged off the idea that anything was out of place. 

Green eyes looked out toward the mountains. 

And how much snow fell out there since then? How many warnings did we hear about travel and hypothermia last night and this morning? 

The cheery skiers two tables away laughed loudly enough to pull Natalie from her self incriminating thoughts. 

The redhead smiled sadly, watching one of the fellows tell an animated tale with lots of broad gestures. His girlfriend laughed and casually tossed her hair back. 

The familiarity of the movement took her by surprise. Natalie hoped that somewhere on the mountain, Jo and Blair sat at breakfast laughing with their ranger friends. 

************* 

She tugged the last of the branches inside and leaned back against the side of the entry tunnel. Her insides felt strangely hollow, not too surprising in that it had been nearly thirty hours since she had eaten. 

If she had felt that the duty was hard yesterday, then today it felt nearly insurmountable. The additional snowfall made every step a chore. Making way to and from the treeline had only gotten easier after she had beaten a path through the snow. 

Once or twice she had nearly buried herself in the slippery drifts, as her small stature worked against her. The new snow acted as if were one huge blanket that drowned the entire mountainside. 

Blair tugged off her gloves, wincing as the damp material slid over freshly broken blisters. There was little the cold could do to numb the sting that flared when the air hit the raw patches. 

She quickly closed balled up her hands and frowned. Tired brown eyes swept over the newly gathered provisions. There was precious little left to scavenge from the trio of birches. There would be enough for tonight, maybe part of tomorrow, but then she would have to find a new source of wood. 

Behind her, her roommate coughed quietly and it pulled her attention from her previous thoughts. The blonde crawled quickly back into the chamber. 

Her friend looked up guiltily. "Hey, how's the great outdoors?" she croaked. 

Blair scrambled up to Jo. The brunette's eyes were watering from the coughing fit and her cheeks were flushed. 

"Terrific, if you're a penguin," replied the socialite wryly. She reached toward her roommate's forehead and was surprised when Jo didn't try to swat her hand away. 

The brunette took a measured breath. "So, do you think they've started looking for us yet?" The blonde's brows wrinkled as she gauged her friend's temperature. 

The debutante's mouth curved into a shadow of a smile. "That's what I'm hoping," she responded with a confidence she didn't feel. Blair rested the back of her hand against her friend's cheek for an instant. 

Blair studied her roommate for a moment. "Jo, no kidding now, okay? How do you feel?" 

The Langley Regent rubbed her nose, her eyes taking on a familiar mischievous glint. "I'd say 'Not so hot,' but considering the circumstances you'd probably consider that a joke," Jo replied evasively. 

The blonde skier chuckled as she crossed to the opposite side of the fire.   
"And you would be right," she said as she eased another chunk of wood into the embers. The timber hissed as the moisture on it evaporated. She stared at the fire as she posed her next question. 

"Are you breathing okay?" 

"Yeah," she sniffed. "I do feel kinda congested. What did you decide -- have I got a fever?" 

"I think so," Blair asserted. She looked at the scrape that ran along her friend's cheekbone. The bruise that darkened her temple. What if a broken rib had nicked a lung? Could pneumonia be setting in? 

The blonde kept her tone neutral. "Your body's been through a lot and we need to do whatever we can to keep you from getting sick." 

Jo nodded and watched as her roommate rearranged the boughs she had been sitting on. The blonde pulled her skis out from under the stockpiled wood and passed her hands over the clasps. Once inspected, she placed the equipment on top of the gathered birch. 

The girl from the Bronx swallowed hard. Those aren't going to be used for kindling, she surmised. A day ago Blair had been certain that all they had to do was sit tight and wait to be found. She had adamantly refused to consider skiing out for help. 

Something must have changed. Jo felt a sinking feeling, a ominous dread that maybe they weren't as safe as she had thought. 

The brunette pushed any trace of worry out of her voice. "Ah, Blair? If you're thinking about dashing out for a pizza, could you get one with sausage, huh?" she grinned. 

"You got it," Blair chuckled. "Extra pepperoni, too." The blonde stretched her frame along the edge of the fire. The girl crossed her booted feet at the ankle and rolled onto her back. 

"That sure would taste good right about now," she sighed. 

Something important was going unsaid. Jo scooted to the edge of the sleeping berth and eased her injured leg down, making it easier for her to sit upright. Blair looked over when she heard her roommate grunt. 

"You really need to keep that knee elevated, Jo." 

"Yeah," muttered the brunette. She rubbed a hand over her tender ribs and looked toward the tunnel to the outdoors. After a moment she turned her gaze toward her roommate. 

"Okay, Blair. Out with it," she demanded. Blair propped herself up on her elbows and cocked her head in puzzlement. Jo shook her head, her dark locks dusting the tops of her shoulders as she did. 

"Warner, you would make one lousy poker player," she announced in reference to her friend's inability to disguise her worries. 

The brunette raked a hand through her hair. "How bad is it?" 

Blair sat up and wrapped her arms around her knees. She fiddled with the clasp on one of her boots before she raised her eyes and answered the question. 

"The truth? About as bad as it can get."   
  
  



	14. PART FOURTEEN

PART FOURTEEN  
  
"So, that's it." She said aloud. More to herself than her friend. Jo leaned  
back and stared gloomily at the fire. The embers had hollowed out a  
deepening pit in the snow floor of the shelter.  
  
Her fingers tightened on the stick she held in her hand. She pushed it  
toward the glowing coals, cutting a groove in the snow, bulldozing a bit of  
the slush into the fire where it sizzled.  
  
As she furrowed out channel after channel with the wood, the gravity of the  
situation began to wear through her defenses.  
  
"Blair, I owe you ... "  
  
Brown eyes drifted closed, a frown creasing the young woman's lips. "Jo,  
that is such an old fight and I just don't have the strength to argue about  
it now."  
  
"No, not that," she countered. "An explanation. I owe you an explanation."  
  
The brunette's serious tone worried her friend. She heard Jo take a breath  
and make a false start, her words tumbling out haphazardly. Intrigued, the  
socialite raised her head to listen.  
  
"Right. Okay, then. You know its hard for me to admit some things. Like that  
sometimes I don't always know best or that I might need help or what people  
mean to me."  
  
"Polniaczek, you talk too much," Blair sighed.  
  
Jo frowned. This was difficult enough. She didn't expect her roommate to  
give her a hassle. "Will you at least give me a shot at this?"  
  
"Not if it's going to sound like your last-will-and-testament."  
  
Jo blinked at her friend's dismissal. What's the matter with her? Does she  
think this stuff comes easy for me? The rebuff stung and it made her angry.  
  
"Be glad I can't reach you, Warner, 'cos if I could I swear I'd ..." she  
warned, her voice taking on a dangerous tone.  
  
Rather than becoming alarmed, the debutante grinned. "Better, much better,"  
she replied.  
  
"What?"  
  
"That sounds much more like you," replied Blair honestly, as she hid a yawn  
behind her fist.  
  
Jo smirked as her temper began to subside. Ain't it the truth? They were  
just not the sort to slosh the mushy stuff around. Tootie and Natalie seemed  
to thrive on daily affirmations as to who was whose best friend.  
  
Things like that just didn't creep into Jo and Blair's conversations. As she  
thought back over the years, she couldn't find more than a couple of  
instances where they'd even tried to define their relationship.  
  
They laughed. They disagreed. They argued. They were far more alike than  
they would ever care to admit. But more importantly: they never gave up on  
each other.  
  
The brunette turned and considered the tunnel to the outdoors. As it was,  
the passage was nearly full of gathered wood. "Ah, Blair?"  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"I hate your guts," the brunette grinned. On the other side of the fire, the  
blonde's mouth quirked into a smile as well.  
  
"I know. I hate you, too." 


	15. PART FIFTEEN

PART FIFTEEN  
  
Walter Livingston leaned back and stretched out his tired spine. Warm within  
his coveralls, he stood at the entrance of the utility garage and watched as  
the faint glow of morning appeared in the sky.  
  
The light was soft as it penetrated through the cloud cover. Like the glow  
of a candle cast through a pearl.  
  
The fifty-seven year-old slid a hand free of a glove and rubbed his hand  
over his face, feeling the roughening stubble on his cheeks. He heard the  
rumbling of the big diesel engines as the snow removal equipment began  
returning to the building. The lights on the plows splattered the ice and  
drifts with shimmering yellow pulses.  
  
The backup horn of one of the smaller blades blared as the unit was backed  
into its slot in the facility. The garage was virtually empty as all units  
had been called out to being the unenviable task of clearing roads.  
  
The beeping reverberated in the big hollow building. Per protocol, the crews  
would bring the equipment in for re-fueling and an assessment of the  
conditions before heading back out.  
  
Livingston looked up at the flakes that were still whirring about in the  
glow of the nightlights. The icy bits of lace clung to his dark mustache. A  
weather report from the preceding morning was running through his brain. The  
overly perky weather girl had announced some flurries with no accumulation.  
  
Uh, huh, he thought smugly as he stamped his boots to knock some of the snow  
out of their treads. Here's about eighteen inches of 'no accumulation,'  
sweetheart.  
  
He sniffed the air. Those meteorologists couldn't find their butts with both  
hands. Hell, they've got maps and charts and satellites and all sorts of  
scientific hoo-hah and they missed this one completely.  
  
The director strode across the lot toward the entrance to the facility,  
rattling his clipboard against his thigh as he walked. The snowcat that was  
nearing the gate was running rough. The fellow frowned and did a mental  
calculation as to how his budget might stretch for more repairs.  
  
As it was, he already had one in drastic need of parts. Snowcat No. 3 was  
due a complete overhaul. The ten-year-old diesel had become so unreliable  
that Livingston had ordered it parked.  
  
At last the machine lurched through the entry, its driver expertly swinging  
wide to be able to line the bulky craft up to enter the garage. Livingston  
heard the engine struggle as the safety officer downshifted. It sputtered to  
the point that he expected it to grind to a halt.  
  
Instead, it chugged sluggishly along completing its circuit. When the front  
of the cab turned toward him, the man's brown eyes zeroed in on the unit  
number.  
  
What the ...? he thought as his dark eyes squinted in disbelief.  
  
Son of a bitch.  
  
Livingston ground his teeth as No. 3 inched past him. He had the radio to  
his mouth ready to bark at the driver when he remembered that they were on  
an open channel.  
  
Anyone with a police radio or scanner could hear everything that they  
transmitted.  
  
Realizing that what he had to say wasn't intended for all audiences -- in  
fact, sailors might pick up a phrase of two before he was finished -- the  
director started a slow jog toward the garage.  
  
*******  
  
A thoughtful expression passed over the girl's features. For a moment, her  
friend regretted having asked the question.  
  
Jo swallowed, her lips pursing thoughtfully as she did. "Look, Blair, if you  
don't want ..."  
  
The socialite raised a hand and waved off her roommate's concerns. She shook  
her head. "No, it's not that," she said. A glance at her skeptical friend  
and she quickly added, "Really."  
  
The brunette watched as her friend from Manhattan played with a bit of  
evergreen, smoothing the needles with her fingers and watching them spring  
back to shape.  
  
"I'd be lying if I said it hadn't made a difference," she offered quietly as  
the wind drew across the top of the chamber, filling their small shelter  
with an eerie moan.  
  
Both girls looked up toward the vent as they had whenever things became  
particularly blustery outside. They were utterly dependent on the hope that  
the weather would clear enough to be found by a search party.  
  
The blonde gave the spruce in her hand a squeeze. It felt cool and  
reassuring against her palm. "Sometimes it's hard to think of 'my sister' as  
'A Sister,'" she admitted, placing emphasis on certain words so that her  
comment made sense.  
  
Jo turned the phrase over in her mind as Blair made her way over to the  
stockpile of wood and carefully added a piece to the fire. The fresh fuel  
launched a spattering of ash into the air, where it wafted on the warm  
upcurrents toward the simple flue.  
  
She then dusted her hands on her knees and crawled back to her spot by the  
firepit. Chuckling softly, Blair rubbed her eyes and sighed.  
  
"You know how she is -- you were there." She rubbed her jaw and acted as if  
it hurt. "Boy, were you ever," she commented mischievously. When her friend  
opened her mouth to protest she laughed out loud.  
  
Blair grinned. "Kidding! Listen, I'm not sure I can explain this, but I'll  
try." She rested an elbow on the edge of the sleeping berth.  
  
"Meg always had this way about her that just drew you in, you know?" Blair's  
features took on a wistful look as she felt the memories wash over her.  
  
"Her spirit was so open and accepting that you just couldn't help but adore  
her." The socialite smiled as she described her step-sister and Jo found  
herself nodding in agreement to the appraisal of the young teacher.  
  
"It's hard to believe now, but ... " the blonde swept a hand along the side  
of her head, smoothing wayward strands back behind her ear. "I was quite the  
handful when our parents married." Blair smirked at the mock look of  
surprise Jo offered to that comment.  
  
The blonde scowled and the girl from the Bronx raised a hand in polite  
surrender. Actually, Jo had no intention of interrupting. She waited as her  
friend gathered her thoughts.  
  
************  
  
Natalie's feet hit the ground with a crunch as she hopped the distance from  
the four-wheel drive vehicle. The trio had arrived at the Safety Offices for  
the mountain.  
  
"You okay, Nat?" her roommate asked as she lowered her own feet to the snow  
covered earth.  
  
The reporter shivered as a blast of wind whipped her hair away from her  
face. "Peachy," muttered the girl as she shoved her hands in her pockets.  
"So, Quentin, are ladders like, standard equipment when you buy one of these  
big rig thingies?" she inquired in as light a manner as she could muster.  
  
Tootie's new male friend answered politely and made an attempt at a joke  
himself. Natalie nodded at his effort but their hearts just weren't in the  
bantering mood.  
  
The young man couldn't begin to understand what the two girls must be  
feeling at the moment. He had been raised on the mountain with a healthy  
dose of respect for everything associated with it. The forest, the ravines,  
the weather, the snow -- all beautiful and enticing and completely capable  
of killing you if you didn't know what you were doing.  
  
How many news reports had he heard through the years of tourists wandering  
off course and ... well, he didn't want to think about that right now.  
  
He reached the door to the offices and tugged it open for the girls. Tootie  
stepped right though while her friend lingered back looking up at the timber  
and stone entrance.  
  
Quint looked down, embarrassed to be witness to the reporter's fear. She  
had paused a scant two steps ahead of him.  
  
"Natalie?" he prompted gently. "It's going to be okay."  
  
She blinked and pulled her gaze away from the insignias cast in the masonry.  
He would swear that her eyes held a hint of gratitude in them as she patted  
his arm.  
  
"Just keep telling me that, Quentin," she replied as they moved into the  
building. "Just keep telling me."  
  
*************  
  
She squeezed the fingers of the gloves and was pleased to find that they  
were drying out nicely. After re-arranging them slightly and making sure  
they were well clear of the fire, the blonde skier settled down beside the  
berth.  
  
How to explain it all? she wondered. In many ways, it was ancient history  
for her. It wasn't until Eastland that she really felt as if she belonged.  
  
The time that came before the prep school? It had always seemed wiser not to  
dwell on it.  
  
Blair shivered at the recollection. "The answer to the question, 'What's  
worse than divorce?' is of course, re-marriage," she remarked dryly. "Well,  
at least to my eight-year-old mind it was. A new father, a new city, a new  
home, a new school and a new sister."  
  
Jo winced. She remembered the unsettling feeling when her own father had  
gotten close to marriage after her parents split. That was a  
stomach-churning couple of weeks. Geez, but that shook me up and I was  
seventeen, she thought to herself.  
  
Her friend was just a kid when this happened. "What did you do? Were you a  
complete holy terror?" she asked expectantly.  
  
The blonde smiled and fiddled with the dingy cloth bandage that stretched  
around the palm of her right hand. Her sleeves were a couple of inches  
shorter now, having torn some fabric away to use for other things.  
  
"Ummmmm, no," she answered with a slight shake of her head.  
  
She smoothed the dressing back into place and looked up briefly. This is  
going to be harder than I thought, she realized when she saw how intently Jo  
was hanging on her every word.  
  
Her expression wavered and the change wasn't lost on her roommate. She  
wasn't all that sure that either of them were up to the challenge of another  
serious discussion.  
  
"Tell you what," Jo began, trying to give her roommate an easy out,  
"...let's just forget ..."  
  
The socialite released a held breath. "I was utterly heartbroken," she  
whispered. Brown eyes looked up hesitantly, not exactly sure what to expect  
of her friend's response.  
  
Jo's expression was one of sadness tinged with understanding. It was exactly  
what Blair needed to see to continue her tale.  
  
"Mother was so caught up in the drama of the move and the new marriage that  
she just couldn't see how unhappy I was." She shrugged, her throat working  
as she swallowed. "Or -- maybe she just didn't want to see it."  
  
"Anyway, I wasn't eating, wasn't sleeping and was hopelessly out of step at  
school. I expected some trouble, bring the new girl and all, but some of the  
things they said ... " she paused and smiled ruefully.  
  
"Mrs. Garrett once compared cruel kids to piranha. Good analogy," she  
remarked, trying to lighten the mood. She remembered how it felt to climb  
the stone steps to the main entrance. Each footstep took her closer to her  
classroom where she would spend the day being ridiculed by the Boston girls.  
  
Meg, on the other hand, had spent her whole life at the academy. She floated  
through the halls with the self-assurance and status befitting the daughter  
of Dr. Stephen Hawthorne. That was just the way things were -- seeing as how  
the Hawthorne's were one of Boston's oldest families.  
  
Five years older than Blair, Meg's classes were upstairs away from the  
grammar students. Once they climbed out of the car in the morning, she  
wouldn't see the girl again until the school day ended.  
  
Two weeks into the term, the doctor's daughter noticed how tense the younger  
girl became on the ride to the school. Not that Blair had much to say, Meg  
thought sadly. She held up most of her end of the conversation with nods,  
head shakes and the occasional, "Fine."  
  
Still, the little girl's evasiveness couldn't hide the fact that she had a  
death grip on her satchel. Meg could plainly see her white-knuckled fists as  
they clutched the straps of the navy bookbag.  
  
As the car rolled to a stop, Meg leaned forward slightly looking at the  
small child that sat tensely opposite her on the plush bench seat. The  
eight-year-old gnawed anxiously at her bottom lip.  
  
Meg plainly saw her flinch when their driver opened the door of the  
Mercedes.  
  
The Bostonian watched as her new step-sister climbed gravely out of the  
limousine. The smaller girl looked up at the imposing building and as she  
did, all of the dread and apprehension she felt was reflected in her  
expression.  
  
" ... I guess we'd climbed halfway up the stairs when Meg suddenly stopped.  
She asked me if I really wanted to go to school that day -- because she  
didn't --and she was hoping that I would keep her company," the debutante  
smiled at the memory.  
  
"What did you do? Did you ditch?" Jo had already guessed what was to come  
next. She could see the two of them roaming the streets of Beantown. The  
older helping the younger find her smile again.  
  
The blonde skier nodded. "Oh, yeah!" she giggled. "We wandered the city for  
the whole day. Window shopped, visited two museums and a zoo. Had conies for  
lunch in the park..."  
  
Her friend's dark head shook slowly. Jo pointed a finger at her friend in  
disbelief.  
  
"You...?" she stammered. "Had a hot dog voluntarily?"  
  
"I was young. We were fugitives," countered Blair with a dismissive shrug to  
her roommate.  
  
"I'm in shock," quipped Jo.  
  
"You are a riot," the socialite deadpanned. "Hilarious. Really. You should  
play Vegas..."  
  
********** 


	16. PART SIXTEEN

PART SIXTEEN  
  
The man leveled his glare on the fellow before him. His baritone voice took  
on a particularly sinister rumble.  
  
"Say that again," he growled.  
  
"I'm telling you it just wasn't here." The operator scratched his signature  
on a report and then waved the clipboard in the direction of the machine.  
"Believe me, I didn't want to be out there in that sorry wad of bolts, but  
No. 6 was off the board."  
  
Livingston took a breath. 'Off the board,' meant out on a random run --with  
no route logged. His eyes flashed as he rolled the scenarios around in his  
mind. Someone was out of their ever-loving mind.  
  
Always the manager, he thumped the operator on the shoulder, congratulating  
him for getting any work done at all since he had to coax decrepit No. 3  
through its paces. The two walked back through the huge sliding doors into  
the cold and speculated on what might have happened to the missing machine.  
  
The driver spoke candidly, obviously glad to be off his shift. "It's bad.  
'Bout as lousy as I've seen it," he offered. "Slick and dangerous as a  
cocked gun."  
  
Livingston nodded. "So what kind of an idiot would take a 'cat joy riding on  
a night like this?" he wondered aloud.  
  
The chatter from the supervisor's radio had died down. Most all the  
operators were back to the base for a rest before any secondary runs were  
ordered. The two men waved at the final snowplow and headed back into the  
garage still speculating between themselves as to what might have happened  
to the missing equipment.  
  
Two steps from the doorway, Livingston's radio blurted out a call to the  
supervisor. The base operator relayed a call from an operator stranded near  
the summit of the Viper.  
  
The fellow snatched up the walkie-talkie and barked into the mouthpiece.  
"Who made the call?" he demanded.  
  
"Pinkus, sir," came the immediate reply.  
  
Livingston grabbed the metal sliding door and jerked it open, probably  
harder than necessary and definitely out of frustration with his young  
employee. It rattled in its track as it was thrown back into place.  
  
As the man stalked toward his office, every driver in the facility was  
thankful that they were not the source of Livingston's foul mood.  
  
*************  
He had been running the motor sparingly over the night, just enough to warm  
the cab. Other than the fact he was hanging off the side of a mountain, he  
was cozy, comfortable and fed.  
  
Chad slid the microphone back on its hook beside the radio. He straightened  
out the twist in the cord and leaned back in his seat.  
  
That wasn't so bad, he thought as he patted the steering wheel nervously.  
The unit hissed as he heard instructions relayed back and forth to safety  
crews on the mountain.  
  
The teenager had been formulating his explanation for the past hour and a  
half. Actually, if he hadn't overheard the dispatcher make the calls  
concerning the unit he was driving he would probably still be on radio  
silence.  
  
Dude, where could they get the idea that Snowcat No. 6 had been stolen,  
anyhow? he wondered.  
  
Well, okay, so it wasn't in the garage.  
  
Okay, so maybe, I didn't sign it out, he admitted grudgingly.  
  
Then there was the thing about actually getting permission for an  
unscheduled run ...  
  
The boy exhaled in exasperation, flailing his hands about as he did. Chad's  
fingers gripped the wheel with a strength brought on from tension and  
fright.  
  
When you put it all together like that, it really didn't sound too good.  
  
But, who knew it was going to keep snowing, anyway? he thought defensively.  
  
The weather chick had made it sound like a whole bunch of nothing. Good  
thing for her she's so cute or I'd never watch her forecast again, he  
decided.  
  
The snowboarder pulled off his toboggan and rubbed a hand over his head,  
ruffling up his already unruly hair. It had felt as if the tight knitted cap  
was squeezing his brain.  
  
It made it hard to think. He figured he had a couple of hours to get his  
story together.  
  
I didn't steal it, I just borrowed it to ...  
  
... came up here to ... ?  
  
The teenager slumped forward across the steering wheel and laid his head on  
his outstretched arms.  
  
"God, am I in trouble," he groaned into the silence.  
  
Still, being in trouble with Livingston was preferable to being in trouble  
with the police.  
  
Steal a snowcat? he snickered. Who in the right mind would steal a snowcat?  
  
He looked around the cab of the heavy machine.  
  
It isn't like this thing is a babe-magnet or something, he chuckled. The  
image of the machine decked out with a cherry red paint job and lightning  
bolts running along the cab above the tracks flashed into his head.  
  
Nah, he decided as he settled the earphones of his walkman into place. It  
would never work. A push of the play button and Bon Jovi roared though the  
apparatus.  
  
Chad's head bobbed in time with the guitar heavy song as he further  
considered the make-over of the 'cat.  
  
Hey, waitaminute! Fuzzy dice! Yeah, he smiled as he began his wait for  
rescue.  
  
******  
The ranger stopped dead in his tracks. "Since when?" he demanded.  
  
"Since you owe me," came the smug reply as he snapped open the newspaper.  
Good thing the paper's office was on the way to work or there would be no  
news today, thought Kurt Chambers as he reclined on the couch in the rangers  
barracks.  
  
The roads were way too nasty for the carriers to make deliveries.  
  
Ranger Aaron Baker walked up and stared down at his partner. "You want to  
translate that for me?" he inquired with his arms crossed defiantly. "You'll  
have to forgive me -- I don't speak idiot."  
  
Chambers chuckled. "How about I just speak slowly so you can follow along?"  
he offered with a smirk. "Three days ago you wanted to drive to the lowlands  
and go hunting, right?"  
  
Baker squinted at his friend. "Right," he answered cautiously.  
  
Kurt scanned the headlines and then turned to the sports section, rattling  
the pages as he did. "Do you remember why?"  
  
Aaron spread his arms wide. "Because we had the day off!"  
  
Kurt raised a hand to make a point. "Exactly!" he said as he gestured toward  
his friend. "But, what did we do?"  
  
The blonde headed skier narrowed his gaze as his patience began to play out.  
"Chambers, you better have a darn good point at the end of all of this," he  
warned. If his friend did, he didn't seem to be in a hurry to get there.  
  
"We went skiing instead. Because you just had to run some downhills! As if  
we haven't ever done that!" growled Baker. "Like a hundred times before!"  
  
His partner made a motion as if drawing out details. "Not exactly like those  
times before, was it?"  
  
Baker tilted his head. "What? We skied. We raced. You won three, I won two,  
and then ..."  
  
Aw, hell.  
  
We met the girls. Aaron clapped his hands together and rubbed them as if he  
couldn't wait to get to work.  
  
"So, this omelet ... what did you want on it again?" he grinned.  
  
*****  
  
It's karma. It's got to be, thought the dispirited redhead.  
  
Natalie had heard people talk about "out of body experiences." But, seeing  
as how the reporter was as skeptical as they come of all that new-age  
hoopla, she just couldn't buy into it.  
  
She even enjoyed professing that even though Peek skill was small, it still  
had a remarkable collection of loony tunes.  
  
And sometimes she got paid to talk to them. Who could forget the lady who  
could meditate herself into a conversation with her goldfish.  
  
That was a hoot, remembered Natalie. According to the old lady, her fish  
enjoyed watching "People's Court" but Mrs. Feeny admitted it was difficult  
to carry on discussions with something that never blinked.  
  
Then there was the guy who swore he could dream his way to the Bahamas. He'd  
plop down in his living room and concentrate really hard on the beach, sun  
and sand. Then, three hours later, he would find himself with a sunburn.  
  
Oh, yeah. That's possible, she had smirked behind her notebook even after  
the man offered to show her his tan lines.  
  
She couldn't seem to help it. Two sentences into their tales and she would  
tune them out and spend the rest of the conversation trying desperately not  
to roll her eyes.  
  
Or hum the theme to "The Twilight Zone."  
  
That would be bad form for a reporter, you know.  
  
The writer crossed her arms and hugged them to her chest. So, now what'cha  
got to say, Green? taunted her inner voice as she struggled to understand  
how she was feeling.  
  
From the moment they had entered the rescue and safety offices, things had  
felt out of step for Natalie. She knew she was helping Tootie answer  
questions -- at least it sounded like her -- but at the same time it was as  
though none of it was real.  
  
She raised a hand and rubbed her forehead. Behind the heavy counter, rangers  
milled about the station as they purposefully went about their tasks.  
Natalie looked down at the pen as it scratched information about her friends  
on the form in front of the officer.  
  
Logically, she knew she was standing right beside her friend. She was  
leaning against the solid bulk of the counter watching Tootie's hands  
gesture as she spoke.  
  
But, the whole experience felt funny.  
  
Maybe, she wondered as her eyes settled on the bright stitches that made up  
the seal on the state flag, this is what those people were talking about.  
  
I'm here -- but not really.  
  
Natalie took a breath. The action kept unreeling around her as if she were  
watching a film of the event. She imagined the camera pulling back to show  
their faces.  
  
She could hear a radio report that described the weather conditions for the  
mountain. The screen of the movie in her mind dissolved to show her friends  
struggling to stay alive.  
  
More questions from the man behind the desk. Tootie prodded her with a look  
and she offered up an answer.  
  
The man's expression was solemn as he nodded. She noticed that Quentin  
seemed quiet now, too.  
  
The reporter felt her roommate lay a comforting hand on her shoulder as the  
officer raised the telephone to his ear. She wondered who he was going to  
call.  
  
Her thoughts drifted back to Blair and Jo as she again tried to understand  
what she was feeling.  
  
I'm here ...  
  
Someone patted her shoulder. "Nat, they're going to look for them."  
  
... but not really. Hearing her friend's comment, the writer nodded in a  
dazed sort of way. She slumped on her forearms over the countertop and shut  
her eyes for an instant.  
  
It would be too much to wish this away as a bad dream, thought Natalie.  
Still, she tried to, just the same.  
  
********  
  
The young man was bent over the newspaper with a set of expensive sunglasses  
perched on top of his head.  
  
Quentin rapped the inside of the doorframe with his knuckles. "Hey,  
Chambers!" he called in greeting to the ranger on the couch.  
  
Kurt raised his head from the morning paper. "Jamison?" He rose and shook  
hands with the fellow in the doorway.  
  
"Long time no see, buddy," said the ski patrolman as he clapped his high  
school friend on the shoulder.  
  
"Yeah, we've got to do something about that," agreed Quentin with a small  
smile before his expression sobered considerably.  
  
Kurt Chambers nodded and laid the paper aside. Both he and Quint had been  
raised on the mountain.  
  
"I really hope you're hear to bitch at someone in public safety for burying  
your car with a snowplow," he offered lightly as he watched for reaction.  
  
"No such luck," responded the freshman from Duke as he remembered his reason  
for heading into the barracks.  
  
"Listen, you got any juice or coffee back here? I've got a friend who could  
use something to drink," he asked as he looked back toward the front  
offices.  
  
"Sure, sure we do. How about some orange juice?" said the patrolman as he  
headed off to the kitchen.  
  
"That would be great," said Quentin as he shifted from foot to foot. A  
speaker mounted high in the corner of the room beeped and then rattled off  
instructions concerning a search and rescue mission that would begin  
immediately.  
  
Kurt rounded the corner as the message began. He slowed down, careful of the  
glass of liquid in his hand just as his partner reappeared in the common  
room.  
  
"Rock and roll, partner," grinned Aaron. Noticing the visitor, Baker smiled  
and pointed. "Quentin, I didn't think college boys got up this early," he  
kidded. "What brings you out this time of day?"  
  
Kurt gave his partner a glare as he passed the juice to Quint.  
  
The freshman didn't notice. "We need some of your expertise, I'm afraid. My  
friend thinks her roommates are lost somewhere in the mountains."  
  
Aaron's face fell. Damn. Me and my mouth.  
  
"Sorry, man. Really," he offered by way of apology. "How long have they been  
missing?"  
  
"Two days or so, Tootie thinks that ..." he began only to have a hand raised  
in his face.  
  
"Woah, hold it," Kurt shook his head as his green eyes widened. What are the  
odds? Beside him, his ranger friend was on the same train of thought.  
  
No way, no way, no freaking way! Aaron took a breath to keep from saying  
just what was running through his mind. From the look of things, Kurt was  
speechless.  
  
But that name ...? Aaron had to know -- he had to be sure.  
  
"Your friend, Tootie, is she from New York?" he asked carefully. Quentin  
straightened his shoulders and looked at the ranger as if he were a mind  
reader.  
  
"Yeah, how did you know?" 


End file.
